


Separation Studies and Advanced Coronacation

by jeffwing



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: A modern quarantine AU, F/M, Five Years Later, Post-6x13 Emotional Consequences of Broadcast Television
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:28:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24009619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeffwing/pseuds/jeffwing
Summary: Jeff does what he says he’d do. He lets Annie go.But then she comes back.Post S6. Quarantine AU, 5 years later.
Relationships: Annie Edison/Jeff Winger
Comments: 121
Kudos: 502





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know if this needs to be said, but don't listen to the lovable losers in this fic. Social distancing is important! Stay safe and stop the spread.  
> For creative purposes, I've added a little leeway to social distancing, but it's a love story, sue me.

When everything goes to crap, Jeff is relieved. Ultimate d-bag student Jacob Jacobson had successfully made his life a living hell at Greendale. Him and his group of overgrown babies had decided that making animal noises during Jeff's lectures was some sort of sick entertainment. 

So when Craig calls him to say they’re moving classes online because of the coronavirus outbreak, Jeff’s not sad one bit. In fact, he's actually excited that he has the power to mute his students. 

Jeff kicks up his feet on the couch and starts binging _Love is Blind_ because he finally got a new damn Netflix account and he doesn't have to worry about anyone in the study group stalking what he’s watching. 

Plus, he wants something mindless to watch while he scrolls through his phone. Half of his Instagram feed is filled with crap memes about hoarding toilet paper and how the world is ending. He really doesn't give a fuck. Hot girls, more memes, more girls, Shirley’s baked goods, Britta’s failed quarantini and… Annie?

Jeff scrolls past it, pauses, and scrolls back up because apparently he’s a masochist. 

Fuck. She’s gorgeous, smiling in front of some kind of lake/pond thing surrounded by trees and trees of cherry blossoms. He hasn’t talked to her in... what, three years now? God, has it really been that long?

Last he remembers, Annie finished her FBI internship only to find that she couldn’t pursue a full-time position due to their policy about illegal drug usage within 10 years of application date. (Technically prescription pills are legal but her method of getting them was definitely not.)

Jeff’s not sure what happened after that. The two of them had ultimately (and maturely) decided to keep their feelings under wraps as Annie figured out what she wanted to do next. And where she wanted to be. 

He couldn’t really blame her when it turned out that where she wanted to be was 1,750 miles away from him. Annie could turn her life into something beyond community college. Beyond a failed lawyer and old addictions and dusty study rooms. She could go out there and meet some overly handsome, smart, ambitious man who was her exactly her age and didn’t have the emotional maturity of a high school fuckboy.

Jeff knew he had to let her go. She had been an impossible dream from the beginning. So why did the thought hurt so goddamn much?

 ** _annie_edison_** _DC, you’ve been my politics-nature-adventure-history-everything paradise._ _Thank you for amazing people, incredible art, endless burgers, and inspiration at every corner. Sorry to leave but I’m grateful for everything._

Leave? Before Jeff can stop himself he’s clicking the comments. 

Netflix asks him if he’s still watching, but he doesn’t even register that the TV has stopped making noise.

 ** _Britta.perry_** Can’t wait to finally have a roommate again.

 ** _annie_edison_** @britta.perry Yes! So excited.

Jeff swallows hard.

And then he calls Britta.

“So you heard the news, did you?” Britta asks. He can hear her smug smile through the phone and he immediately regrets everything. 

“What news?”

“So you’re playing coy now. That’s cute.”

Jeff rolls his eyes. “There’s nothing that kills the mood like calling a man adorable.”

Britta scoffs. “Oh please. You want to talk about mood-killing? Let’s talk about the time you accidentally called me An-”

“You know what? I’m good.” Jeff sits up on the couch and runs a hand through his hair. He can hear Britta breathe out a little laugh on the other side of the phone. 

“Fine. Since the world's ending, I’ll play nice,” she says. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your call?”

Jeff opens his mouth and then closes it again. His eyes wander to the TV, which has exited to the main screen and started to play previews. 

He’d planned on (casually) asking Britta about the whole Annie situation, but now that he thinks about it, asking Britta seems almost creepy. He’s in his forties, for fuck’s sake. He cannot admit to her that he’s stooped to teenage girl level of stalking. 

“Soo…” he says instead, “What’s going on with the bar?”

Britta sighs heavily. “We’re moving to takeout only. I’ve been trying to find these new containers with the compostable plastics and we’ve been trying to switch to paper bags but it’s nearly impossible since everyone and their mother’s are requesting them.”

“Mm,” he says in response. 

“It doesn't help that the staff is convinced they're safer at home and are all trying to quit working.”

“That sucks. Any luck on the psychologist front?”

“It’s already hard enough to find a psychologist job. Now with this virus? Impossible.” Britta pauses. “Wait. Since when have you ever cared about my job?” 

Fuck. She catches on quick. Jeff fidgets with the string on his sweatpants. _Think fast, think fast._

“These are trying times, Britta. I have reason to be concerned. They’ve even shut down _Greendale_.”

“Oh yes, I’ve heard as of… I don’t know, an hour ago? Are you already that bored?” 

“I’m just trying to see what you’re up to. Nothing wrong with that,” Jeff says. 

Annnnd...he’s trapped. Britta’s psychology degree may be from Greendale, but she's smart enough to see through all the bullshit he’s spewing.

“Cut the crap, Winger. This is about Annie, isn’t it?” 

Jeff sighs and lets his head fall back into the cushions behind him. “You caught me.”

“Well, you better buck up, bucko. She’s coming home.” Jeff can hear the smile in her voice. “Everyone’s coming back home.”

“Everyone?” Jeff asks. 

“Yup,” Britta says, popping the ‘p.’ “Abed too.”

Jeff blinks. “Why?” He asks. And before he can stop himself, “When?”

Britta laughs. “Abed’s TV series paused filming and Annie’s… well. Annie can tell you herself. They’re coming tomorrow,” she says. “And they’re going to need help moving back in, so you better not bail this time.”

All the breath leaves Jeff’s body. _Tomorrow?_ “And you couldn’t have broken the news earlier?”

“What, so you can drive yourself crazy by obsessively dying all your grey hairs and not-so-subtly pestering me with questions about Annie’s love life?”

“I don't care about that,” Jeff says. The words fall flat and hang empty in his living room.

“Which part? Annie’s love life or the grey hairs? Either way, congratulations. Major character development for you.”

Jeff sighs. “And now I remember why I never call you.”

“Oh boohoo. You're just clamming up because I'm cutting too close to the truth.” 

Jeff doesn't say anything. 

“I know you're terrified about Annie coming back. I'm sure she knows too, or she wouldn't have asked me to reach out to you,” Britta says.

The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them. “She asked you to reach out to me?”

“God! You two make me sick. Yes. You're always dancing around it, acting like you both don't talk to me just to get the scoop.” She huffs. “I'm sick of playing messenger!”

So. Annie's been asking about him. That's… nice. Or whatever. Not that he cares. Friends can ask about each other.

Jeffs's so busy deciphering what it could mean that he almost misses what Britta says next.

“Come to my place tomorrow around 3 PM. I'm picking them up from the airport but we need two cars to get all their stuff out of storage.” 

“Got it,” Jeff says. He’s still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“And Jeff?”

Here it comes.

“Yeah?”

“Annie’s single. So don't fuck it up.”

* * *

The next day, Jeff agonizes over what to wear before he decides on a dark blue Henley. It fits tightly over his chest and looks just casual enough for him to pretend he doesn't care. 

He knocks on Britta’s door around 3:15, again, because he doesn't care, and waits. His palms are annoyingly damp, so he wipes them on the back of his pants. 

“Jeff.” The door of 303 opens and it’s Abed. His hair has grown out longer. It’s not quite Messianic Abed, but it’s long enough to fringe at his forehead. His mouth and nose are covered by a purple mask with red planets.

“Abed,” Jeff says. “Nice to have you back.” He leans in to give Abed a hug but Abed stiffens and backs away. 

“Social distancing, Jeff. I’ve just come back from the airport.” Abed takes two steps backwards and then three more. 

“Right,” Jeff says. 

“Come in, come in. Annie’s unpacking in her room. Make yourself at home.”

Abed walks into the living room to let Jeff into the apartment. The space is unbearably empty except for Britta’s room and the skeletal frame of a bunk bed. He can’t see much since the door is partially closed, but it looks like Britta’s painted the walls a fresh shade of vomit, and he can see her clothes and towels strewn everywhere. 

In the living room, there are a few crooked Pixies posters, paintings, and scattered pillows, but the place is mostly empty. Long gone are the sheets of the blanket fort, the pictures of Troy, Annie, and Abed littering the walls. 

“Abed, you’ve been back for fifteen minutes, stop acting like you live here,” Britta says. 

She walks from her room to meet Jeff where he stands in the center of the living room. He's still staring at the empty bookshelf, the TV, the two empty armchairs and lets the memories wash over him in waves of unwanted nostalgia. 

Britta gives him a soft, closed-lipped smile, like she knows what he's thinking. 

“What happened to your old roommate?” Jeff asks, gesturing to the room with the door closed. Annie’s in there. She has to be.

Britta shrugs. “Dunno. She got freaked out about getting sick like a month ago. She went back home to New York.”

“Isn’t that _worse_?” He asks. He slides into one of the kitchen stools and takes out his phone. 

“You betcha,” Britta says.

Jeff’s not sure what he’s looking for as he refreshes his email, but he needs to keep his hands busy. He feels tingly all over with the thought that the woman he used to be in love with is just a door away. 

And she’s _single._

Damn it if Jeff hasn’t been daydreaming about this moment ever since he hung up the phone yesterday. He’s been going back and forth between whether he should hug her or go for a kiss on the cheek. Or maybe just smile and say hello. But fuck, no matter what he does, he can’t see it not being awkward. He’s so lost in his thoughts he doesn’t notice that Britta is speaking.

“Is that good with you, Jeff?”

Jeff looks up from his phone to catch Britta rolling her eyes. “Huh?”

“I said I had to help Abed pick up some stuff at his dad’s house. Are you good with helping Annie unpack?” She asks.

Jeff nods, just as the door to Annie’s room creaks open. He pushes back the chair and stands up. 

When Annie steps out into the living room, everything turns over inside of him. He can’t believe how long it’s been since he’s last touched her or even heard her voice. Somehow all it takes is one look and every feeling he’s ever felt comes flooding back full force. Fuck.

But Annie doesn’t give him time to think about it. 

“Jeff!” Annie visibly brightens and rushes over to him. She grips him tightly in a hug, her arms looped around his middle. 

There are so many reasons he loves Annie, but her ability to make potentially awkward situations so _so_ easy, surely tops them all. 

Annie practically melts into his arms. Jeff clutches her closer, resting his chin just slightly on the top of her head. The warmth of her curves are searing right through his shirt. Annie smells deliciously clean, her scent surrounding Jeff and making him feel a little light-headed. He needs to move away before Annie gets explicit proof of exactly how much he’s missed her. 

“Social distancing,” Abed says. “In Contagion, Beth Emhoff kills her son by giving him a hug.”

Annie sighs and lets go of Jeff. “Abed. It’s okay. I showered and changed when we got back from the airport.” 

“It doesn’t matter. You can spread the virus just by breathing on each other.” He looks from Jeff to Annie and then back to Jeff. “So if one of you carries the virus, it’s already been spread.”

Jeff shrugs. “Sickness. Death. They’re all natural parts of life. If it comes for me, so be it. I’m not changing my life.”

Britta crosses her arms. “And that’s why so many people are dying, Jeff! Self-centered covidiots like you think it’s perfectly acceptable to cough on clothes at Old Navy and put them back on the rack!”

“First of all, I do _not_ shop at Old Navy. And second, if I did cough, there would be no coronavirus.” Jeff steps closer to Britta and points a finger at her. “My body is a temple. My immune system is made of steel.”

Britta lifts up her hands. “Alright. Okay. No need to get so close. Your point has been proven.” Jeff still doesn’t move, so she flicks her wrist at him in a ‘back-off’ gesture. “Six feet away please.”

Jeff rolls his eyes and resumes his spot next to Annie, who is hiding a smile. 

“What? You want me to move away too?” Jeff asks her. 

Annie grins. “No,” she says. “I’ve missed having you around.”

When Annie’s gaze meets his, his heart nearly stops. Her bright blue eyes cut right to his core. He can’t look away. Up close, she looks even more beautiful than she’d been in all the pictures. There are dark bags under her eyes from her travel, but Annie’s still as gorgeous as ever, which isn’t fucking fair. 

Jeff has to press his lips tightly together to keep from breaking out into a dopey grin. “Yeah,” he says. “Me too.”

Annie bites her lip. The motion is distracting and suddenly he can’t stop staring at her mouth. He had hoped three years of not seeing her would help him get over this. To be able to ignore the palpable tension that sizzles in the air like fizzling fireworks. The inexplicable way he’s drawn to her like a moth to a light. 

Britta clears her throat. “This has all been very charming, but we have to go. The storage unit closes at 5.” Jeff shoots her a look, but she only smiles wider. “Abed can come with me.” 

Abed holds up a finger. “I rather go with Jeff and Annie. I expected the reunion scene to be a bit more dramatic. More slow-mo. Running. You know, like Gone with the Wind?” 

“You mean the book that declared marriage to be the best thing to happen to a woman? Absolutely not.” Britta says. 

Jeff grabs his keys and heads to the door before Britta can launch into another exhaustive tirade of sexism in the 1930s. 

“We’ll meet you two there,” he calls over his shoulder. Annie follows quickly at his heels. When they get to the door, he slows to offer her his arm. 

“Milady?” 

Annie flushes pink and tucks her arm into his. “Milord.”

When she slides into his passenger seat, a thrill runs through his body. Annie fits so naturally there, like she’d never even left. 

Almost like she was supposed to be there all along.


	2. Chapter 2

As Jeff begins to drive, neither of them say a single word. 

It's a little awkward, so Jeff fiddles with the radio to find something to fill the silence. He settles on Today’s Hits, which he normally hates with the fire of a thousand suns, but today his mind is racing with so many questions he can barely even hear the music. 

“What-”

“So-”

“You go first,” Annie says.

“No, you.”

Annie smiles, a twinkle in her eye. “What happened to the Lexus?”

Jeff swallows. He knows she's trying to lighten the mood by bringing up a happy, shared memory, but with every good thing comes losing that good thing, and the story of loss is never pleasant.

Letting his Lexus go had been a painful necessity. After all the paintball fights and the dent in the side from Annie’s “taco truck incident,” it was only a matter of time before the engine died and he had to turn it in for something lower-end. Something he could afford with a Greendale salary. 

God, he misses that car. 

“It's been five years, Annie. Did you really think everything would start back up just the same as when you left?” 

Annie’s face falls and she turns to look out the window. Crap. “No,” she says. “I know we've all changed. I just didn't think about… how much.” 

Jeff sighs. He wants to apologize, but he can't find the words. He doesn't regret letting her go, but he regrets that he's still bitter about it. Either way, it’d been the right decision. 

The last time he’d seen Annie, had been three years ago, and she'd been absolutely glowing. 

Abed had invited them all to a pilot viewing of his new TV show in LA. The group dressed impeccably. Jeff and his $1000 suit. Annie and that beautiful orange dress. Britta was there and Frankie and Ben and Craig. Annie had smiled at him with such warmth that he thought he'd burst into flames. She'd ordered an expensive glass of wine without hesitation and he'd watched as she sipped on it with the class of someone who belonged in a country club.

“So you're a wine connoisseur,” Jeff said, dropping into the seat next to her at the bar. 

Annie smiled, eyelashes fluttering. “I've had a few years of practice.”

But then she told him about her new boyfriend, who was a marketing manager at a multinational alcohol company, practically bursting from her chair with excitement. She'd been so happy, her eyes gleaming, her body in constant motion.

Now, sitting in Jeff’s car with her hands clasped in her lap, Annie is still. She looks tired. It's the kind of exhaustion he recognizes immediately, the kind that only comes from the burden of life. 

Jeff wants to ask her if she's really, actually okay, but it feels wrong, like he's not really entitled to. 

So Jeff lets the silence linger a little longer. 

They're both relieved when he finally pulls up to the storage unit. Annie digs through her purse to pull out her ring of keys. 

“It's 115,” Annie says, reading the number from the tag. 

Jeff parks at building 100 and they both get out of the car. He slams the door shut with a little more force than necessary. He’s dreading all the moving, the lifting, and the interminably silent twenty-minute ride back. 

For some reason, in his fantasies, Annie’s return is a little more spectacular. She apologizes for the lack of contact and admits she’s still in love with him. Then she asks him to help her unpack with the promise of kissing and (maybe) sex and they live happily ever after. 

It’s definitely not this. The loud silence and painful tension of trying to hold back everything he wants to say. Fuck. Jeff needs to keep it together. The faster he goes inside, the faster it can all be over and done with. He has cold Scotch and Netflix waiting for him at home. 

Annie hurries after him and grabs Jeff by the arm. “Jeff, wait.” 

Jeff turns around to face her, but she's still moving, so she bumps hard into his chest. Jeff grips her shoulders to steady her.

“You okay?” 

Annie nods once and pinches her lips together. He lets go of her immediately.

“I’m sorry.”

“I appreciate the apology, Annie, but if you wanted to touch my pecs all you had to do was ask.”

Annie crosses her arms. “Jeff! I'm being serious here.”

“Well, go on then.”

She frowns. “I know you reached out a few times throughout the years and I ignored you or only responded back in one or two words. I just wanted to apologize for that.”

Jeff doesn't need her apology, but it's still nice to hear. He'd sent her a few texts. Simple things like, “Hey, how've you been?” And “Happy birthday!” And a picture of the little trophy that they’d won together for their debate. The texts didn't say much, but it was the gesture. Just a little something to say, " _Hey, I've been thinking about you and I miss you. (But not to the point where you should drop everything in your life and come back to me!)"_

Annie would've known what he meant. Or, he thought she would have. 

“Don’t apologize,” Jeff says. “I knew what would happen when you left. It was what needed to happen.” He breaks eye contact.

He doesn’t want her to see his face right now because, the second that she sees his eyes, she’ll know about all the empty nights he spent looking into the bottom of his Scotch glass, binging Netflix originals, trying to convince himself he was staying up because he was bored and not because he was waiting for a text back. 

“No, really. I shouldn’t have treated you that way. Not without an explanation.” Annie fiddles with her hands. “Do you remember that picture I posted? Of us, a few years ago for your birthday?”

Jeff remembers. It was a selfie of them pulling stupid faces. He had a finger mustache and she had a finger beard. The caption beneath it read, “Happy birthday to my partner in crime.” It was a bit coupley, but he wasn't going to complain. 

“Yeah. I remember.”

“Well,” She frowns. “My boyfriend at the time, Oliver, was furious. He knew a little bit about our,” she gestured between them and dropped her voice to a whisper, “history.”

Jeff rolls his eyes. “It's not a dirty secret, Annie. Everyone knows what happened.”

She crosses her arms. “Well. Oliver thought we had a secret text affair and you wanted me back.”

“Funny, because that was around the time I remember you dropping off the face of the Earth.” 

Annie ignores him and keeps talking. “I told him he had nothing to worry about, but he kept going on about how it was only a matter of time before I left him for you.” She sighs. “The only thing that I could do to appease him was to distance myself from you.”

“You also could have broken up with him.”

Annie presses her lips together in a soft smile. “I could have.” The smile fades from her lips. “But he was…” She shrugs. “He made me happy.”

“And now?” Jeff asks.

“Now he doesn't.“ Annie looks away. “And I understand why he was worried.” 

Jeff opens his mouth to ask her what she means, but the words freeze on his lips when he hears the sound of tires on gravel.

Britta and Abed have arrived and they're both wearing masks. Britta’s is bright yellow, a smile drawn in black Sharpie across where her mouth would be. It’s only mildly disturbing, Jeff thinks. And by mildly, he means intensely.

“You guys waited for us? You shouldn't have.” Britta’s smug smile indicates to Jeff that she knows very well she's interrupting and decides to do so anyway. 

“Sorry, I can't hear you over the atrocity that's on your face,” Jeff says.

“You don’t like it?” She asks. “I sewed it from a pattern I found online.”

“You _made_ that?” Annie asks incredulously. “Britta, that's amazing.”

Britta shrugs. “Unfortunately, the years of activism never erased my ability to sew.” She hands a mask to Annie and one to Jeff. “And now you each have one of your own.”

Jeff pinches the mask with two fingers, away from his face like a dirty pair of underwear. It’s an off-brand white with repulsively detailed red roses _._ He glances over and sees that Annie’s is the same, with purple roses. “Yeah. No thank you. I'd get sick before I wear this hideous mouth diaper.”

“The textbook narcissist strikes again.” 

“Jeff!” Annie already has hers on. He’s sad to see her smile disappear underneath the cloth. “You don’t know who’s here. You should put it on.” 

Jeff frowns, because her Disney eyes are already starting to take its effect. He turns to Britta. “You couldn’t have made a mask a little more, I don’t know, gender-neutral?”

Britta rolls her eyes. “Men and their fragile masculinity. They’re _roses_. It doesn’t get any more neutral than nature.” She crosses her arms. “And wearing it isn't going to make you suddenly female.”

Jeff’s jaw tightens. “Fine,” he says. He loops one elastic over his ear and then the other. “Happy?”

Britta snickers. “It's upside down.”

Jeff winces. He wants to fling the stupid thing into the dirt and move on with moving Annie and Abed’s crap. He doesn't need a dumb mask to keep him from getting sick. He exercises regularly and eats his antioxidant-rich fruits and vegetables.

His thoughts are interrupted when Annie steps into his personal space and rises to her tiptoes. She’s so close he can see the grey in her blue eyes. Jeff suddenly feels like he can’t breathe and it has nothing to do with the cloth that's covering his mouth. He wants to lean forward and kiss Annie, mask and all. 

The pads of Annie’s fingertips reach behind his ears and tug the elastic bands off of them. Her eyebrows pinch together as she concentrates, lining up the mask properly on his face and slipping the elastic back over his ears. 

“There,” Annie says. She stands back, her fingers lingering on the stubble at his jaw, surveying him. “That’s better.”

“Can we go?” Abed asks. “It's almost 4:30.”

Annie jerks back and Jeff pushes back rather abruptly, too, because for a second, he forgot they weren’t alone. 

“Oh! Um.” Annie smiles and shakes her head. “Right. I have the key.” She straightens her shoulders, turns on her heel, and heads inside, Britta trailing behind her.

“The classic mood killer. When the tension reaches its peak, an irrelevant character will step in to destroy the mood with something unimportant.” Abed says.

“Abed.” Jeff sighs. “This is real life. And in real life, you let your friend have a moment with the woman he hasn't seen for years and actually kind of likes.” He pauses, before he adds, “And in real life, you’re not irrelevant.”

* * *

Annie has way too much crap. They can barely squeeze everything into Jeff’s trunk and the backseat, so Annie has to hold a few of her pillows in her lap as they drive back to the apartment. 

He spends an hour just carrying everything up the stairs and into her room, thoroughly winded, but the way Annie smiles at him makes it all worth it. (God, when had he become such a sap?) They’ve kicked off their shoes and washed their hands of outside germs and finally removed their masks. 

And then he's stuck dragging her clunky floral armchair all over the room.

“No, Jeff, that looks stupid there. Put it on the other side of the bed.” 

Jeff sighs and places the chair to the right of Annie’s bedroom window. 

“Good?”

Annie puts her hands on her hips. “No, not there. It’s going to block out all the light.”

“Seriously?” Jeff asks. “Where _else_ do you suggest I put it? We have very limited options.”

Annie chews on her lip. “Try to the left of the bed.”

“Again?!”

“Yes, again.”

Jeff throws up his hands in the air. “Annie. I have been carrying around your crap for the past _two hours_. Is it really that hard to remember the layout of your old room?”

“I remember. I just wanted to try something new.”

Jeff’s hands clench and unclench on the arms of the chair. “Yeah, I changed my mind. I don’t want to help you anymore.”

“But Jeff! I can’t reach over my bed and I need to hang up a painting.” 

Jeff flops down into the armchair and pulls out his phone.“You should have thought of that before you exploited my unpaid labor.”

“Fine,” Annie says, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’ll do it myself.”

Annie walks to her suitcase and pulls out a framed painting of an acrylic flower garden. It’s relatively large and matches the rest of her old furniture. Jeff wonders how she managed to cram the thing into her suitcase, but she’s Annie, she can work miracles when it comes to organizing. 

Annie has to climb over several boxes before she can clamber up on her bed. She gets on her knees and then rises carefully to her feet, the bed creaking and sinking slightly under her weight. She reaches up to hook the painting on the nail, but it’s just beyond her grasp. She huffs in frustration, bouncing a little on her toes to give her more height. 

Jeff grins. He’s seriously considering letting her struggle for a few more minutes, just to teach her a lesson. His heart wins out, though, and he rises to his feet.

When Jeff gets onto the bed, the mattress dips under his weight and Annie nearly loses her balance. Jeff steadies her with a hand on her hip. Annie tenses, so takes the opportunity to ease the painting from her hands and hook it onto the nail. The edge of the frame just barely misses and their arms brush together. 

Annie faces him, her mouth in a small pout. “I was doing fine without your help.” 

Jeff’s heart stutters a bit at how sweet she looks. “Looked like it.”

Annie swats at his chest and Jeff’s footing wobbles a bit beneath him. “Careful,” he warns. He tries again to hook the painting, but it misses and nearly drops to the floor. “Crap.”

“You’re not doing it right. The hook is in the middle.” Annie says. “Let me try.” She takes the painting back and bounces on the balls of her feet, the frame snagging for just a second before it falls back into her hands. She swears softly. “Lift me. I just need to be a little higher.”

Jeff hesitates. Does she really want him to be this close to her?

“Jeff.”

Jeff’s hands circle her waist, fingertips sliding against the fabric of her purple shirt. He grasps her and pushes her upwards, his feet unsteady on the mattress below.

Annie’s at the perfect angle to hook the painting, but somehow she’s struggling even more. His arms shake from her weight and the tired strain of lifting all of her boxes.

“Annie,” he says, through gritted teeth, “if you take any longer, my arms are going to fall off.” 

Annie finally hooks it after one more try. Jeff releases her waist and she turns around to face him, fingers curling around his biceps.

“Sorry about that, I was a little distracted," she says, smiling at him through her lashes.

Jeff is starting to panic, just a little. He can’t function properly when they’re pressed against each other this close. 

Annie’s face is tilted up and Jeff’s is tilted down and the air between them is full of lightning. It feels like Annie is going to try to kiss him. If she does, he doesn’t think he can resist. And he still has so many questions.

Jeff hates himself, but he has to stop this. He runs his hands through his hair.

“Maybe we should get back to packing. Unpacking.” 

Annie nods. “Uh-huh. That way we can, um, finish sooner and help Britta and Abed.”

They both hurry off the bed. Annie rushes to her bags and unzips the one with her bedding. 

Jeff stands there for a minute, before he decides his best course of action is to sink into the floral chair and watch Annie meticulously tuck the sheets over her bed. 

“So,” he says, after his brain starts functioning again, “how long are you planning to stay?” Jeff tries to play it cool, like it hasn’t been the number one question on his mind since she arrived in Greendale County. 

If Jeff’s honest with himself (which he is now, God help him), he’s not ready to hear her answer. After everything, he can’t imagine why Annie would want to stay in Colorado, not when she (probably) has a swanky job and a beautiful apartment and the potential to meet someone a thousand times more rich and fifteen years less old in DC.

Annie, who is fluffing her comforter, frowns and lets it fall back onto her sheets. She sits down on the edge of her bed. “I don’t know.”

“Your work doesn’t want you back?” Jeff asks. He’s not even sure what she does anymore, but he’s sure she’s doing _something_. He’s never seen her not work in his life. “Not even after quarantine?”

Annie swallows. When she meets his eyes, they’re filled with tears. “I...got let go,” she says softly. She rubs her hands together. “When I left Greendale, I had this whole plan for the rest of my life. I was going to work for the FBI and meet someone and get married by 27 and prove to everyone and my parents that I was meant for something more.” She sniffs and wipes at her face. 

The tears are starting to fall more freely now and Jeff can’t watch this happen and not touch her, so he hurries to the bed to pull Annie into a tight embrace.

They sit there, in her tiny bedroom lit dimly by a single lamp, and Annie won't stop trembling. 

“Nothing worked out the way I wanted,” she mumbles into his shoulder. “I couldn’t apply to the FBI, my boyfriend dumped me, my new job let me go because they couldn’t afford to keep me, and I loved DC but it never felt like home.” 

Eventually, Annie pulls away, her eyes red and cheeks all splotchy. “I wanted to reach out to you but I couldn’t bring myself to. Not after I had been so awful by ignoring you.” 

Jeff frowns. “It doesn’t matter how long we go without talking, Annie. You know I would be there if you needed me.”

Annie sighs and stands up. “That’s exactly the problem, Jeff. I knew that. And I knew the second I let you in again, I’d be flying back to Colorado with some excuse about why I needed to be here. I wouldn’t have changed.” She smiles sadly. “I wouldn’t have suffered and loved and lost and…” Annie looks to the floor. “I wouldn’t have realized that there’s something here that I can’t find anywhere else.”

There’s a tingling sensation in Jeff’s chest. Does she mean him? She couldn’t possibly mean him. Annie is saying words he wants to hear, words he’s been dreaming about for years, and it’s not fair because he still doesn’t know what she wants with all of this. Does she feel the same way about him as he does to her? Like she’s holding back a tidal wave every time she opens her mouth?

“Here? Like Colorado?” Jeff asks. He needs her to say the words.

“No, dummy,” Annie says and she’s smiling now. “Here, with you.”

Jeff rises to his feet. If there were ever a time to kiss her, it would be now. 

Jeff places a hand on Annie’s cheek, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw. She stares at his mouth and he can feel her breathing. It’s slow and steady and Jeff tries to focus on that, instead of the way his heart is beating wildly in his chest.

They’re so, so close. The need to kiss her is a physical hurt, like a knife to the heart. Jeff is desperate to taste her again. He’s been desperate for years. 

And he’s nearly there, barely brushing their lips together, when Britta and Abed burst into the apartment. The second the door slams, he jolts back, the softness of Annie’s lips lingering so lovely it burns.

Jeff clenches his jaw. He is going to _kill_ them. 

Britta pops her head into Annie’s bedroom, grinning and holding two bottles of tequila, one in each hand. 

“I got booze!” She announces and does a little dance. “Boo-” Jeff doesn’t bother to hide his scowl. “Oh, sorry. Did I interrupt?” Britta smirks. “You were kissing, weren’t you?”

“No,” Jeff says, through gritted teeth. “You have perfect timing, Britta. As usual.” He draws in a slow, steady breath and then pushes past her to go to the kitchen and find a glass. He needs a drink. Or a cold shower. Or something. 

“Idiot matchmaker.” Abed says, when he walks by. “Someone who tries to set the mood actually kills it through unconscious design. Another classic mood killer trope.”

Jeff would pull his hair out, but he's not 100% sure it'd all grow back.

“Shut up, Abed.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, this chapter was a monster to write. If you find anything that's not canon compliant, feel free to let me know. I try to cover all the bases but I'm forgetful sometimes. Enjoy!

Jeff spends the next few hours trying to avoid Annie. 

The short time they’ve been together has already driven him a little crazy. Annie’s presence is like a magnet, pulling him in with delighted smiles and those ridiculous, beautiful eyes of hers. It’s fucking frustrating. All Jeff wants to do is pull Annie back in her room, kick the door shut, and demand that they talk until the clouds of tension are lifted away.

But he can’t do that, not if Britta or Abed have anything to say about it, so he settles for the easier thing. Pretending like Annie’s not there.

Jeff can’t pull off the indifference, though. When he tries, he catches himself turning his head when Annie enters the room, or smiling mindlessly when he overhears something she says to Abed. 

He knows he's so, so screwed.

Britta slides a beer across the counter as he sits scrolling through his phone, like he’s actually paying attention to it. He’s thankful for the drink, it’s something to distract him from the almost-kiss that keeps playing in his mind in an agonizing loop. 

“You look constipated,” Britta says. “Something wrong?”

Jeff rolls his eyes. “Just the hundreds of emails asking for an extension on a paper I assigned,” he lies. 

Abed enters the kitchen, holding a stack of DVDs, Annie rushing after him.

“Abed, get back here! We didn’t finish sorting them in alphabetical order!”

“Alphabetical doesn’t work for me. I sort them in order of release date,” Abed says. 

Annie groans and throws her hands up. “I give up.”

“I’m hungry.” Abed announces. “Do we have anything to eat?”

“Let me check,” Britta says. She opens the fridge, but there’s nothing but rows of beer and soda that line the shelves. 

“Britta!” Annie scolds. “Do you have anything _ besides  _ alcohol in there?” 

“I couldn’t let the drinks go to waste! My manager let me take the extra alcohol home.”

“So you don't eat? ” Jeff asks. 

Britta leans against the counter and crosses her arms over her chest. “Psha, of course I eat. I have some toast and cereal in the cabinet.”

“Sounds healthy.”

“Not all of us need to eat tree leaves to have a six pack, Jeff!”

“How about pizza?” Abed asks. 

“Pizza it is,” Britta says. She picks up her phone and walks into the other room to place the order.

* * *

When the pizza arrives, they each grab a drink. Abed grabs a soda while Jeff and Britta find beers. Annie complains that beer disgusts her and insists on drinking the crappy white Zinfandel Britta once used to kill fruit flies.

They rest the pizza box on Abed’s armchair and eat off of paper plates in their laps, three of them squished on the couch and Britta in the red saucer chair. It's messy, and they’re all bumping elbows, but it feels like the old days again. 

Britta lifts her bottle to cheers. “Oh, alcohol, I still drink to your health.” 

“Oh come on,” Jeff says. “I refuse to cheers to a BNL lyric.”

“Ha!” Annie says, pointing at him, her mouth full of pizza. “You said BNL!”

“Gross,” Jeff says, “Haven’t you heard that you’re not supposed to talk when you chew?”

Annie opens her mouth and sticks out her tongue, revealing a mashed up mess of half-eaten pizza.

Jeff scrunches up his nose. “Ew.”

“Don’t change the subject, Jeff,” Britta says. “We’re onto you.”

“I was saving my breath by abbreviating.”

“It's the same amount of syllables,” Abed says. He tilts his head. “I'm surprised you recognized the reference. Alcohol isn't even one of their top ten songs.”

“Okay, so I know the lyrics to one song. Big deal. I only learned it so I could get a date.”

Britta smirks. “Angel?”

“Who’s Angel?” Abed asks.

“Jeff’s stripper ex-girlfriend,” Britta says. 

Jeff looks immediately to Annie who stares back at him, eyes wide and unblinking, before something in her expression crumbles in on itself. He needs to fix this before Britta launches into a story that’s even more incriminating. 

“We never dated.” Jeff says quickly. “And she’s not a stripper.” It’s not enough, though, because Annie’s gaze goes all steely and dark. 

He hates Britta sometimes. She knows exactly how to get under his skin and prod at him until he snaps. It’s why things had never, and would never, work out for the two of them.

Jeff’d wanted to tell Annie about everything that happened after she left. About Angel and the bubble gum incident. How he’s probably not the same Jeff as when she’d seen him last. She deserved to know everything, but not like this. 

“She had a name like one.” Britta says. She blows air from her lips. Her cheeks are red from sipping on her third beer. “So why’d you walk out on this one, Winger? Did things get too real, too fast? Good ole commitment issues?”

He can see Annie fidgeting in the corner of his eye, her mouth turned downwards.

“It’s really none of your business,” Jeff says. He drains the rest of his beer and rises to his feet. “And on that note, I'm going home.”

There’s not enough alcohol in Jeff’s blood to keep him aloof and comfortable. He feels hot, worked up, and irritated. He wants to talk to Annie before he leaves, tell her the real reason why Angel never amounted to anyone, but pulling her aside now just seems embarrassing. 

“Come on, Jeff. Stay,” Britta says. “I was only playing. Have another drink. You can stay on the pull-out tonight.”

“No, really, I have…” Jeff trails off and waves his hand, trying to come up with some excuse. Unfortunately, since his classes are postponed he has absolutely nothing. “Stuff. To do. Laundry.”

“Great! So you’re free.” Britta says. “Let’s play a game.”

“I vote  _ I Never _ ,” Abed says. “It’s a perfect game to learn horrifying things about each other. We’ll find out harsh truths and have an argument that will ultimately make us stronger in the end. And if we do it right, we’ll have a ‘what did I do last night’ sequence tomorrow morning.”

“Abed. No. I’m not participating in a middle school sleepover.” Jeff says. He starts towards the door. “Goodnight.”

“Annie! Tell him to stay,” Britta says.

“Why me?”

“Because he listens to you!” Britta says. “Your doe eyes can melt him into a pile of goo.” 

Annie sighs. She looks down at her lap and presses her lips together. Jeff can see that she’s running all the possibilities over in her mind, deciding whether him staying the night is a good or bad idea.

Then, she turns to Jeff with big, wide eyes. Her bottom lip juts out. “Please, Jeff, will you stay?”

Jeff wants desperately to say no to spite everyone and prove to himself that Annie has absolutely no hold over him. But who is he kidding? After the years of nothingness, any extra time with Annie (and Abed) is a gift.

He lets out a slow breath and rubs a hand across his face. Annie’s lip quivers, just a little. Abed and Britta are smiling. They all know he’s going to say yes. 

“You guys are evil.” Jeff says. “But fine. I’ll stay.”

“Let the drunken tropes begin,” Abed says.

Annie smiles, but it quite doesn’t reach her eyes. 

* * *

Everyone had assumed that once Annie and Abed left, Jeff would fall apart.

This, of course, made Jeff all the more determined to prove that he was perfectly fine.

He showed the appropriate amount of sadness at the start. He lamented the past six years with the leftover group during after-work drinks. They sipped on cocktails and vodka and he drank Scotch and everything was not the same, but still just fine. (And if he drank a little more when he got home, they were none the wiser.) 

He taught Intro to Law, Civil Litigation, Business Law I, hell, even International Law, without once looking at the books Annie had piled on his desk. He pushed himself harder at the gym and started to go on dates. 

That’s right.  _ Dates. _

Britta worried, of course she did, but she had no real proof that he was acting in a way that wasn't healthy. Jeff was so indifferent about adjusting that it drove Britta insane trying to diagnose him.

And sure, maybe Jeff ended his days by falling asleep half-drunk and started them half-hungover but he was still _ thriving _ , damn it. 

Jeff functioned a bit like Abed post-Troy. He blended in, helped other people out with their plot lines, and had more luck with women than ever before. 

But Jeff was not Abed and Annie was not Troy, so, in typical Jeff-fashion, when everything crumbled, it crumbled hard and fast and in some insane way. 

It wasn’t a text from Annie or his incredible new work ethic or the drinking that caused his meltdown. It was a woman. Angel.

Angel had dark brown hair and dark brown eyes and a gorgeous smile that was smouldering and adorable all at the same time. When they went out to dinner, she held his hand across the table, her tiny fingers laced between his, her fingernails painted slate grey. 

Angel had obvious eyelash extensions and a name that sounded a bit like a stripper (Britta’s name was still worse), but he liked the way she didn't care much about labels and didn't obsess over anything. She was cool. She was the laid back sort of girl he needed for his next… girlfriend.

They had just finished their wine and Jeff paid the check. As they were waiting for his credit card to return, Angel had looked deep into his eyes and asked, “What’s your biggest regret?”

It was their fifth date and he knew that, by this point, it was perfectly acceptable to have a conversation like this. Opening up to her would lead to her opening up in other ways, and Jeff’d be lying if he said he didn't want to sleep with her. But they hadn't really made it past heavy petting and...

“Jeff?”

Biggest regret. Right. 

And suddenly he was blown back to blue Disney eyes and a tender study room kiss, sweet and slow like dripping honey. He’d wasted six years denying his attraction for Annie and look where he fucking was. In the same place everything started. Effortlessly seducing women and trying not giving a fuck about anything.

Except this time it was worse because he knew what it was like to feel Annie’s lips and taste the wasted years on her tongue. 

Jeff looked at Angel and felt sick. He wondered if he could ever date another woman without thinking of Annie, without reliving the study room kiss and the way she seemed to set his whole body on fire. 

He let Annie go and now he was stuck going through the motions, trying to prove to himself that his feelings weren’t frozen rock solid in his chest, like a curse he was never going to break. 

Jeff would spend the rest of his life trying to prove he could move on. He’d spend the rest of his life on date number five, in a premium-casual restaurant, with a woman that made him try so hard not to try. 

Angel’s eyes were darkening in concern and he needed to say something before she sensed what he was thinking. He had to get out of there. He’d make up some excuse and-

Jeff stood up suddenly and pulled his hand from Angel’s. His ears were ringing. The people at the next table over stared at him.

“Are you okay?” Angel asked. Jeff felt dizzy and tight on the inside. He hated himself for not being able to tell her what was wrong.

“I’m sorry, this isn't going to work.” Jeff said, when his card comes back. “I have to run.” 

Then he did what he did best. He fled. 

* * *

“Do we really have to play this game?” Annie asks. She’s seated next to Jeff on the couch, cradling her wine glass. They’re so close her hip presses against his and the warmth, though pleasant, is very, very distracting. 

“I vote no. This game is designed to get Britta and I very,  _ very _ drunk while the two of you stay as dry as Professor Cornwallis’s history lectures **.”**

“Hmph.” Annie presses her lips together.

“Why are you hmph-ing me?” Jeff asks. He’s seen this expression before (for a pen, in the study room before she started taking her clothes off) and the result is never good. 

“Because you deserve the hmph!” 

“I thought you didn’t want to play this game,” Jeff says. “I’m just trying to get us out of it.” 

“No. You’re trying to brag that you’re more experienced than Abed and I.” Annie crosses her arms. “Just because you're older doesn’t mean we haven't done just as much as you.”

“Prove it.” Jeff says. He loves the way her jaw tightens and she sits up a little straighter, how she tosses her hair back behind her shoulder like she’s ready to fight. “We’ll play with five fingers. Last one to get to zero has to take shots for the number of fingers left.”

“Make it ten.” Annie says. Her eyes are flaming blue. “You'll lose.”

“Um, guys? Usually the goal of the game is  _ not _ to get to zero.” Britta says.

“New rules.” Jeff shrugs. “Abed, you start.”

The four of them hold up their fingers. 

Abed looks at Jeff. “Never have I ever had sex with my best friend.”

Britta puts a finger down and glares at Jeff who keeps all his fingers up. “Why didn't you put your finger down?”

“Annie and I have never slept together.” He realizes his mistake the second it slips out of his mouth. Annie smiles at him, all small and soft. 

“I meant for me, you idiot,” Britta says, rolling her eyes. 

“We are  _ not,  _ nor were we ever, best friends.” 

Britta sticks her tongue out at him. “Jerk. You can have multiple best friends.”

“I know.”

“So what are we, if not, best friends?”

“Sarcastic saboteurs?” Abed offers. “A disastrous duo?”

Annie chimes in. “Antagonistic allies?

“Caustic companions?”

“Frenemies?” 

“Okay, you know what?” Jeff says, “I'll put my finger down.” He tucks his finger into his palm and drains his second beer. “You don't have any Scotch, do you?”

Britta smiles. “Of course I do. I keep the cabinets stocked for my caustic companion.”

Jeff eases himself out of the couch and steps over Annie’s legs to get back to the kitchen. He searches through the cabinets until he finds the Scotch. Britta’s liquor collection is impressive and just concerning enough for him to wonder if she uses the apartment as alternate storage for the bar. 

“Your turn, Annie,” Abed says, when Jeff gets back. 

Annie purses her lips. “Never have I ever kissed a stranger.”

Jeff, Abed, and Britta all put their fingers down. 

“Never?” Britta asks, eyes wide. “Not even in DC?”

Annie shakes her head. “No. I can’t hook up with someone I don’t know, you know?”

“Obviously if we did, our fingers would still be up,” Jeff says. He nudges Annie with his shoulder, grinning. “And would you look at that? All of yours still are.”

Annie pokes him. “You just wait.” She lets her hand fall between them, her fingers resting just slightly on the edge of his thigh. The warmth of it spreads all throughout Jeff’s body and makes him a little dizzy. 

Annie leans back into the cushion, where Jeff’s arm is slung over the back of the couch, and takes a sip of her wine. Her tongue darts out to lick her lips and Jeff’s eyes follow the movement. It’s so terribly unfair that they’re not alone right now.

Jeff forces himself to look away. Britta and Abed can’t catch on to where his head is at. He glances at them, to see if anyone is watching. Abed stares back at him and raises an eyebrow. 

“What?” Jeff asks.

“It’s your turn,” Abed says.

“Never have I ever  _ voluntarily _ kissed someone of the same sex.”

Britta scoffs and puts her finger down. “Reinforcing your heterosexuality through a drinking game? Lame.”

Jeff isn't listening to her, though, because he’s watching as Abed and Annie put down their fingers and take a drink. “Okay, what? Explain.”

“One of my work friends and I went out to a bar. She got a little sloppy drunk and wanted to make out a little.” Annie shrugs. “I was curious.”

“Okay,” Jeff says. “Abed?”

“Troy and I were reenacting the sex scene from Kickpuncher.”

“My turn!” Britta says gleefully.

And then she says the thing that effectively ruins Jeff’s night.

“Never have I ever made a student swallow their own gum.”

Jeff's heart skitters in his chest. All three pairs of eyes are him. Unblinking. 

“You made a student swallow their  _ gum _ ?” Annie asks, horrified.

“The plot thickens,” Abed says. 

"Britta," Jeff says, his jaw tightening. "You said you wouldn't tell anyone about that." 

And there it goes. The full unveiling of the Bubble Gum Breakdown. The unraveling of the classic Jeff Winger freak out. The proof that he was not all happy and put together and moved on.

Jeff wants to flee, but there’s nowhere to go. The bedrooms don’t belong to him and he has to climb over Annie to get to the bathroom. He presses his lips together tightly. He can’t look at anyone right now. 

“Sorry, it's too  _ hilarious. _ ” Britta says loudly. “A year and a half ago, after he and Angel broke up, Jeff had a nervous breakdown during class. One of his students was chewing bubble gum and he made the poor kid swallow it.”

“Jeff?” Annie asks. Her eyes are too big and too round and he desperately wants her to stop looking at him like that. He’s afraid she’ll believe that he's reverted back to his old self. Or worse, she’ll pity him for having a panic attack in the middle of class. 

“The smell was bothering me,” Jeff says, as if it’s an explanation. 

The truth was that his student’s Hubba Bubba had smelled exactly like Annie’s lip gloss. At that point, he'd convinced himself he was never going to see her again. That, combined with his new self-awareness had sunk him deeper into a depression he was afraid he’d never return from.

But Jeff can't tell Annie the full truth about the bubble gum incident. He'd die before she knew the full truth. 

Annie frowns and breaks eye contact. He wonders if she’s thinking she's made a huge mistake coming home. If she regrets almost kissing him. 

“He was almost fired,” Britta continues, smug. Jeff tightens his grip on his glass. When he looks over at Annie, he sees her face is red and her lips are pressed flat. “The dean said that-”

“Shut up!” Annie says suddenly, rising to her feet. “Just shut up, Britta!” 

The room goes silent. 

Annie draws in a deep breath and composes herself, muttering a quiet “Excuse me,” before she hurries to her room.

Jeff glares at Britta. Britta stares at the floor. 

“Never have I ever-” 

“Abed. We’re not playing anymore. The game’s over.” Jeff says. 

“Was that the reveal?” Abed asks. “In A Beautiful Mind, we find out John Nash has schizophrenia. In Star Wars, we find out Darth Vader is Luke’s father. But in real life… Jeff made his student swallow  _ bubble gum _ ?” 

“That’s the reveal,” Britta says flatly. 

“That's disappointing,” Abed says. “If this were season seven, it would be a flop.”

“Yeah, well,” Jeff says lamely, “that’s life.”

They sit in an uncomfortable silence for a little while longer. Finally, Britta lets out a heavy sigh and turns towards him.

"Jeff, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring all that up and embarrass you. I got carried away.”

“You think?”

“I guess I was just, I don’t know,” Britta waves her hand in the air, “Mad that you didn’t let me in on what was going on with you then. I was worried about you and you shut me out.”

Jeff _had_ shut her out. He shut everyone out until he nursed himself back to health with Scotch and grading papers and a short California vacation. He had to make a plan for himself. Get his life back on track just enough so that he could move on. And to do that, he needed to be alone.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” Jeff says dryly, “but that’s kind of my thing.”

Britta rolls her eyes. “Yeah, whatever. Am I forgiven? Because I kind of want to finish this night with something a little stronger than beer.”

“You’re forgiven,” Jeff says. He gets to his feet. “I’m gonna go check on Annie.”

“Don’t take too long,” Abed says. “Troy’s calling at midnight and he promised me he'd have a better reveal.”

* * *

When Jeff opens the door, he sees Annie sprawled across her bed, staring at the ceiling. Her brown hair is splayed out behind her and she’s hugging a pink pillow to her chest.

“Hey,” he says. 

“Hey,” Annie says. She doesn’t move from her position on the bed. 

“I’m sorry you had to hear all that stuff from Britta,” Jeff says. “I should’ve been the one to tell you, but we haven’t really had much time alone-”

“Jeff, no. That’s okay.” Annie sighs. “I have no right to be upset about those things. We’ve both been through a lot since I left. It makes sense that you've dated other women and…” She trails off. “Okay, the Bubble Gum Breakdown doesn't really make sense.”

“Can we not make that name a thing?”

Annie rolls her eyes and sits up. “It's catchy, Jeff.” 

“It is  _ not. _ ” Jeff frowns. “If it's not about what Britta said, then why'd you storm off?”

Annie looks at her hands and shakes her head. “It's nothing. It's stupid.”

“Annie,” Jeff says warningly. He takes a seat at the edge of her bed. 

Annie bites her lip. “I was jealous, okay?” 

Jeff blinks rapidly. He doesn't know what he’s expecting, but it definitely isn’t that. “Why?” 

“There are so many things I don't know about you now,” Annie says quietly. “And Britta does. It never used to be like that.”  She swallows. “When I see you guys together, it's so easy. You bicker, you laugh, you have inside jokes. I want that. I want to walk into a room and not feel like my chest is about to explode from all the tension between us.”

“Annie, you  _ left _ ,” Jeff says. “You made the choice not to know me when you stopped responding to all my messages.”

“I know,” Annie says, her eyes wet. “And there’s not a day I don’t regret that. I want to fix everything, Jeff. I want to make up for lost time. I just didn’t realize how hard this would be.” She sucks in a breath. 

“Of course it’s going to be hard,” Jeff says.  _ Because it’s been a day and I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you.  _ “And it’s going to take a lot of time to figure it all out. But we’ll get there.” He squeezes her hand. “I'm not going anywhere if you're not.”

Annie gives him a small smile. “Considering the state of the world, I'd say I’ll be around for a little while longer.”

“Good.” Jeff says. He opens his arms and she falls into them, hugging him tightly.

“Why  _ did _ you make that student swallow their gum?”

Jeff smiles against her hair. “Get me drunk and I just might tell you.”

Annie pulls back from him and grins. “Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come bug me on tumblr: jeffwing.tumblr.com


	4. Chapter 4

Six tequila shots and four arguments later, Britta, Annie, Abed and Jeff play Jenga. Britta keeps an old set from the bar, where the customers have written dares on all the pieces. Jeff stacks them into a tower, which is more difficult than he expected.

He isn’t drunk but he’s definitely tipsy, which makes it all the more challenging to keep his eyes off Annie. He keeps thinking that he should've kissed her in the bedroom. 

And that's the thing. 

Jeff’s always been the spontaneous, spur-of-the-moment kind of guy. It's always about finding a car, or a janitor's closet, or a study room table, or whatever else is horizontal and can hold weight. As long as there are two willing bodies and some kind of flat surface, there’d be a steamy make out session and if time permitted, sex.

It’s different with Annie. He’s deliberate. Inhibited by the force of his own restraint. No spontaneous moment feels like the right time. No flat surface is ever good enough. Jeff feels all twisted up inside, restless from the drinks and how much he wants her. 

“Ew, Britta,” Annie says, frowning at the Jenga blocks. “This set is grimy.”

“This is nothing. When I lived in New York, people wiped their _boogers_ on pieces like these.”

Annie wrinkles her nose. 

“I have an extra set of Constable Reggie gloves, if you want to use them,” Abed offers.

Annie smiles at him, eyes going wide and schmoopy. “You'd let me use them?”

“Troy bought them by mistake. They're fake. The shade of white we wanted was more of a ghost white. These are corn silk. I have them under my pillow, I can get them for you.”

“That's okay, Abed.” Annie says, squeezing his arm. “I'll be fine.”

By the fourth round of drunk Jenga, Britta’s won a staring contest against Annie, Jeff’s taken yet another shot, and Abed’s speaking in a Scottish accent. It's Annie’s turn, and Jeff can tell already how tipsy she is because she’s smiling at absolutely nothing. When she gets to her feet, she sways.

Annie’s eyebrows pinch together as she nudges a block in the center of the tower. The whole thing shakes. She bites her lip. 

“Any day now, Annie,” Jeff says. 

Annie glares at him. “I know it’s past your bedtime, Jeff, but surely a few extra minutes of game play won't kill you."

Jeff knows the tequila’s kicking in because he doesn’t have a comeback. He rolls his eyes instead and takes out his phone. 

Britta raises her eyebrows. “Yeesh.”

While Annie tugs on the next block and reads the message, Jeff tunes her out in favor of playing Wordscapes. He’s trying to figure out what four letter word can be spelled with C-O-E-R when Annie says:

“Jeff, take your shirt off.”

His heart stutters, but he forces himself not to look up. He’s fallen for enough of Annie’s traps (e.g. the yam incident) to know when he’s being fooled. 

“You'll have to buy me dinner first,” he says, gaze trained intensely on his phone. He’s proud of himself for sounding so nonchalant. He can handle Annie demanding he take his shirt off without imagining a dozen inappropriate scenarios.

“That's what my block says,” Annie says flatly. “Pick someone to take their shirt off.”

“Why me?” Jeff narrows his eyes. He's secretly pleased, though. He likes the effect he has on her. He catches her staring, sometimes, when he stretches and the bottom of his shirt lifts up, just slightly.

“Because you weren't paying attention to the game.”

“Fine,” Jeff says. He tucks his phone into his pants pocket and tugs the Henley over his head, letting it drop uselessly back on the couch. 

Annie’s eyes follow the movement. Her heated gaze slides slowly down his chest. Jeff can't help feeling smug as hell, because Annie is the one who missed out on all of _this_ when she fled to DC. 

“You have a bit of drool,” Jeff says, gesturing to his mouth with a thumb. He's thrilled to have the upper hand, grinning when Annie startles. 

“I do not!” Annie insists. She checks her lips anyway. “Stop being gross.” 

“You're both being gross,” Britta says. “Are you done or can we get back to the game?”

In the end, their tower reaches almost two feet before Annie pulls a block and the whole thing comes apart. 

Jeff leaps to his feet, triumphant. “Ha!” He says, pointing at Annie. “Take a shot. You lose.”

But it turns out he’s the actual loser, because Annie’s a flirty drunk.

When midnight rolls around, they’re unquestionably plastered. Jeff’s limbs are heavy and warm and the room is starting to spin slightly. Annie keeps leaning on him for support. When her head knocks against his shoulder, she turns to look at him with a dazzling smile that sends tingles all throughout his body.

At some point, Jeff’s too dizzy to keep the both of them up straight, so they fall back onto the couch again. Britta, red-faced and slurring, picks an argument with Jeff about how many shots she’s _actually_ taken and how gross it is that he’s talking to her without a shirt on. Jeff reminds her that she certainly didn't mind a few years ago and keeps the shirt off, because it amuses him to see how Annie can’t keep her eyes from darting over and away again. 

Annie dangles her wine dangerously between her fingers and Jeff has to stop talking to Britta in favor of resting the glass back on the table. Annie insists on pouring them all more shots of tequila because clearly Jeff isn't drunk enough if he's bothered by an unbalanced glass. 

Jeff agrees. Shots are a good way to distract him from the hair that’s fallen loose from Annie’s clip and how much he wants to brush it back and kiss her. That, and the way Annie places a hand on his thigh when she laughs. 

Britta storms off before they’re supposed to take the shot, claiming she's already had enough to drink. Abed disappeared a few minutes earlier, muttering something about Troy, so Annie and Jeff are left alone.

Annie leans in and asks Jeff a question, her breath sweet, her skin sporting a pink flush that covers her cheeks and spreads all the way down to her chest and-

“Jeff?”

It’s hard to hear what she's saying when his mind starts going _there_ and the room is all spinny. 

“Hm?”

“Muffins,” Annie says. “Does adding frosting to muffins make it a cupcake?”

He thinks about his answer way longer than he needs to, but his brain is moving the speed of molasses and doesn't want to do much rational thinking.

“Of course it does,” Jeff says, eyebrows pinched together. 

“Are you _serious_?” Annie asks. “Have you ever even had a muffin?”

They start an argument over it, about how much frosting makes a muffin a cupcake, and things start to get really fuzzy. (Annie insists the two are completely different and it doesn't matter how much frosting a muffin has, it's still a muffin. And then she starts listing off ingredients like she’s memorized a recipe book.) 

Jeff’s sure he hasn’t laughed this much in _years._ As serious as Annie gets sometimes, he forgets that there are times she is such a _dork._

He wants to kiss her so much it makes him sick. 

When Jeff blinks again, Abed is holding his phone in front of their faces. “It’s Troy,” he says. “He’s in Ensenada.”

“Troy!” Annie exclaims. She snatches the phone out of Abed’s hands. “How are you? Are you safe?”

Abed stares at his empty hands for a second. He frowns. “I'll go find Britta. Troy has news.”

Jeff presses closer to Annie so he can see the phone screen.

“Annie?” Troy asks. He glances at Jeff on the side of the screen. “Where’s Jeff’s shirt?” He squints. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Jeff just spilled his drink,” Annie lies. “Troy, you need to help me. Tell Jeff that frosting does _not_ make a muffin a cupcake.”

“Of course it doesn’t,” Troy says, frowning. “Muffins are, like, the Pierce of cupcakes. Frosting doesn't make them any less crusty.”

“Ha!” Annie says, grinning at Jeff. “Told you!”

“Gimme that,” Jeff says. He lunges for the phone and she turns away. He gets a face full of her hair. “Call Shirley. She's a real baker.” 

Annie bites her lip, considering it, and Jeff takes the moment to yank the phone from her hands. He taps Troy’s face on the screen and tries to add another caller. 

“Um...guys? Can you, like, focus? I have to tell you something.”

“Not now, Troy. We need to settle this.”

“No, stop! You can't call Shirely,” Annie says, batting at Jeff’s chest to get Abed’s phone back. Jeff holds it just out of her reach.

“Too late. I'm adding her.”

“Jeff, give me the phone!” 

“No! I'm calling Shirley!” Jeff turns his body away from her, but it’s too late. Annie jumps on him like a cat, legs kicking out from behind her, feet flailing and knocking over her wine glass, which spills all over the floor.

The two of them fall silent as the glass clatters. The wine drips off the table and soaks into the carpet. They exchange looks and then burst into laughter.

Jeff drops Abed’s phone to the couch cushions to loop an arm around Annie’s waist and pull her towards him. They're face to face now, so close Jeff can smell the wine on her breath and the bubble gum lip gloss and her strawberry shampoo. She’s staring back at him, eyes wide, breathing heavy, staring at his mouth.

_Is this the perfect moment?_

In the background, there’s a strange, distant ringing, but it barely registers. 

“You smell nice,” Jeff murmurs. 

“Guys?” Troy asks from the phone, sounding just a little bit hysterical. “Are you still there?”

Britta enters the room with Abed, rubbing at her eyes. Her hair is mussed and she's wearing dark blue pajamas. “Did I hear someone say Shirley?” Her eyes widen when she sees Annie and Jeff on top of each other and the wine stain on the carpet. “Oh, jeez.”

“You better have a _damn_ good reason for waking me up at 2:30 in the morning, Abed.” Shirley says from somewhere beneath the couch cushions.

“You called Shirley?” Abed asks. 

Jeff moves Annie off of him to dig through the couch cushions. On the screen, is a very tired and very angry Shirley and a distraught Troy.

“Shirley!” Jeff says. “If you put frosting on a muffin. Is that a cupcake?”

“Jeffrey, are you _drunk calling_ me?” Shirley demands. “And who’s that behind you? Annie?” Her face darkens. “I should've known.”

“Answer the question, Shirley,” Jeff says seriously. 

“Cupcakes and muffins are not the same, frosting or not,” Shirley says. “You ever have a blueberry _cupcake_?”

Jeff frowns. He hasn't. 

Annie grins and jabs him hard in the chest. “I don't want to say I told you so but…”

Jeff makes a face.

“Can I have my phone back now?” Abed asks. Jeff's asked what he wanted to ask, so he hands the phone back to Abed, defeated. 

“Abed, I've been trying to tell them for the past twenty minutes but they just keep arguing!” Troy says, his voice rising.

“Guys,” Abed says. “Troy has something to say.” 

“Is everyone there?” Troy asks.

“We’re all here.” Jeff answers. He scoots closer to Annie and Abed so he can see Troy on the screen. He’d feel bad for waking Shirley and stealing Troy’s thunder, but he's having far too much fun. Britta leans in from behind the couch and peers into the camera. 

“I’m coming back,” Troy says. “I had to dock the ship here, but I have a flight booked for home next week.”

The room erupts in excitement, all four of them (and Shirley) talking at once.

Troy is grinning at them from the phone screen and he shakes his head. “Are you guys going to remember this tomorrow?”

Jeff grins. “Hopefully.” He knows Abed will, at the very least.

Troy is launching into his latest story of an adventure in Amsterdam when Annie nudges Jeff with a toe.

“I’m going to get some paper towels for the floor,” she whispers. 

Jeff can’t help it when his eyes follow her to the kitchen. Annie wobbles into the other room and rummages through the lower cabinets. She frowns when she comes up with nothing. Annie reaches up to try the upper cabinets too, but she pulls on one of the doors too hard and she hits herself in the head. Hard.

“Ugh…” Annie moans. When she turns back around, Jeff notices a fresh cut that’s blossomed on her cheek. He winces. 

“Annie just hit herself in the kitchen,” he tells Abed. “I’ll be right back.” 

Abed nods, but he’s too busy talking to Troy about the latest season of Altered Carbon. Britta has slunk down on the couch, eyes drooping shut. 

“You okay?” Jeff asks Annie, when he gets to the kitchen. 

Annie giggles. “I think I’m too drunk to feel my face.”

“Let me see.” Jeff leans in and cradles Annie’s head in his hands. In the other room, Abed's stopped talking so the apartment falls silent. Jeff knows that he’s watching them, but Jeff’s too far gone to care. He brushes his lips to the swell of Annie’s cheek. “All better.”

Annie smiles and the warmth of it spreads all the way to his toes. She tilts her face up and Jeff starts to lean in.

"Abed," Shirley says, her voice high-pitched from Abed's phone. "Abed, what are we watching?"

They both freeze.

"A ship tease," Abed says. "A will they or won't they. Spoiler alert: they will."

"I hope by 'they will,' you mean they will _stop_ ," Shirley says. "Standing that close with one of them shirtless? That's temptation if I've ever seen it."

Jeff sighs, because the moment is effectively killed.

Annie frowns. She eyes Abed, who has the camera pointed at them. “I put some Band-Aids in the bathroom. I’ll go grab one.”

Jeff nods and watches her stagger down the hall. She almost collides with the edge of the kitchen wall and Jeff hurries to her side. He slings his arm around her shoulders and helps her to the bathroom.

Jeff sets Annie down on the closed toilet seat and rummages through the cabinet, looking for Band-Aids. He doesn’t notice when Annie climbs into the bathtub. 

“What are you doing?” He asks, when he turns back around. 

“Taking a bath.” 

“Annie, you can’t take a bath right now.” 

“Why not?” She pouts.

“Because you’re drunk and you still have clothes on.”

“ _Jeff_ ,” Annie taunts, a wicked look in her eyes. “Are you asking me to take my clothes off?”

God, how he wants to say yes. “No. Annie. Come here.”

She doesn't move, so Jeff walks to the bathtub. He kneels down on the floor, so they’re eye to eye, and unwraps the bandage. He places a cool hand on her cheek and tilts her head up so he can examine her face. He presses the bandage softly in place. When Jeff’s finished, Annie leans into his touch and looks up at him, lips parting. They're so close.

"What if I want you to?"

Jeff swallows. "Want me to what?"

Annie reaches out and puts a hand on his chest. "What if I want you to take my clothes off?"

Jeff doesn’t want their reunion kiss to be a drunk one, but Annie leans in and suddenly Jeff’s praying that whatever he does next ends with her lips on his. 

“Annie,” Jeff warns. 

Annie loops an arm around his neck and presses their foreheads together, her breath hot against his lips.

“Fuck,” Jeff whispers, because he’s not goddamn superhuman. It has to be _unhealthy_ to keep resisting like this. “You aren’t easy for me, you know that?” 

It’s cruel, what she’s doing to him, pressing this close, scrambling his brain until he can’t think of anything else besides leaning in to close the gap.

“God, you’re so wrong,” Annie says. She grips the back of his neck, holding him in place. “I am _so_ easy for you, Jeff Winger.” And then she tilts her lips to meet his. Finally.

It's all Jeff needs before he cups her chin and kisses her back fiercely, the way he’s been thinking about all day - for years, even - kissing her the way he’s wanted to for so, so long. 

Annie keeps pressing herself in closer, her chest pushed up against him, her fingers tightening on his biceps.

The last time Jeff had kissed Annie, the whole world was slow. He had stared at her for ages, memorizing the way she looked at him, like he could tattoo that moment into his brain. 

Jeff wanted so much then. He didn’t know how to get there, but he wanted it, wanted whatever he could salvage from the sharp edges of her leaving. 

Now, kissing Annie, it’s nothing like that, because he’s sweeping his tongue into her mouth, and Annie whines, inhaling sharply. He knows they should slow down, but fuck, he needs to taste her. 

He wants to touch her everywhere, all at once, but he controls himself, letting his fingertips slide against the fabric of her purple shirt. 

Jeff can't stop kissing her. He’s afraid that if he stops, he’ll wake up and realize it was all a dream. So he does what he can do and slows them down, their lips barely brushing together, their breaths hot and mingling. 

When Annie finally pulls back, her eyelashes flutter, and Jeff thinks, _“She’s so fucking beautiful,”_ and that there’s no way he won't remember this tomorrow. 

Annie smiles at him, all soft and shy, before she sits up in the tub. Her eyes go wide. “Oh God. I feel sick.” 

She stands up quickly and stumbles to the toilet before she throws up. Jeff shifts so he’s kneeling beside her, holding back her hair as she coughs into the toilet.

He wants to laugh, because he fucked up the moment he let her kiss him, and he’ll remember forever that their first real kiss was when she was drunk in a bathtub and was probably so bad she got sick afterwards.

Despite it all, though, Jeff has to admit the moment was kind of perfect.

When Annie’s finished puking, she looks up at him with watery eyes. “I'm sorry,” she whispers, “I’m a mess.”

“Good,” Jeff whispers back. He hands her a tissue to wipe her mouth and flushes the toilet. “You’re exactly my type.”

Annie breaks into a smile then and he scoops her up in his arms and carries her back to her room where he drops her in bed. 

His last coherent thought is how soft her comforter is and maybe if he lays down for one second the spinning feeling might finally stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had so much fun writing this chapter. I love drunk shenannigans. And finally! A kiss!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: smutty times ahead, if it bothers you, don't read the ending lol

Three hours later, Jeff wakes up with a crick in his neck, a mop of brown hair in his face, and an absolutely evil taste in his mouth. His head is splitting open and he can't seem to remember where he is. He opens his eyes and looks down, where Annie is snoring soundly on his arm. _Oh._ He thinks. _So that happened._ He stirs, trying to wrench out his arm from underneath her, because he's pretty sure he's lost all circulation. Annie groans. 

Jeff vaguely remembers passing out on Annie’s bed, but he doesn’t remember how he ended up shirtless or why he fell asleep in his $200 jeans. And fuck, why is it so _hot?_ He reaches around the side of Annie’s bed and pulls off the blankets. 

“What are you doing,” Annie asks, eyes still closed. 

“It’s too hot,” Jeff says.

“I was sleeping,” Annie whines. “Please, just let me sleep. My head is pounding.” Her eyes flutter open. “Wait. Jeff? What are you doing here?”

“I wish I knew,” Jeff groans. He’s a bit insulted she didn’t recognize him from the beginning. “Are you always so casual when you wake up with men in your bed?”

Annie sits up and winces. “No,” she says. “I thought I was dreaming.” 

Jeff grins. “You _would_ dream of me.” He shifts on the mattress and regrets it immediately. His body feels like he ran an entire marathon, but he doesn't know why. His memory of last night is hazy at best. “What the _hell_ happened last night?”

“I don't know,” Annie says. “ Abed would. We should ask him.”

“Or we could go back to sleep,” Jeff says. 

“Or that,” Annie mumbles. She settles back into bed and closes her eyes. Her bed is too small for the both of them to lie together without touching, but shutting his eyes feels like heaven on his aching everything.

* * *

Somehow, a few hours later, when Jeff wakes up, he feels even worse. The side of the bed where Annie slept all night is rumpled, the sheets in disarray, but when Jeff touches them, they’re still a little warm.

Jeff rolls over and stands up a little too quickly. The room spins. His stomach lurches and twists in protest. He takes a moment to steady himself, before he starts towards the bathroom. This morning will not end well for him.

The living room is a disaster. Britta is slumped on the couch next to an empty pizza box, three shot glasses and a half-empty tequila bottle. Jeff gags at the smell and his stomach roils. Fuck. 

He dashes to the bathroom, where Annie has her head in her hands, groaning into the toilet. The lights are turned off and there's a sickly smell to the room that tells him Annie has emptied the contents of her stomach. Again. He gags.

Annie looks up at him, eyes rimmed in red, and scoots away from the toilet a second before it's too late.

Jeff coughs before all the pizza from last night comes back up again. His throat burns and tears spring to his eyes. Annie rubs his back, murmuring quiet reassurances. It’s mortifying. He's too fucking old to be getting sick like a 20 year old frat boy.

When he finishes, though, he feels enormously better. Jeff slumps against the bathtub to wipe his mouth with a tissue and catch his breath. Annie pushes herself to her feet, flushes the toilet, and leaves the bathroom. 

A minute later, she returns with two glasses of water and sets herself back on the floor. 

“Oh God,” Annie moans, “Why did we think it was a good idea to get that drunk?”

“We didn't think,” Jeff says. He holds his face in his hands. His headache has come back full force, a searing pain that makes him shut his eyes. “And that seems to be the problem.”

Annie nudges him and hands him the glass of water along with a small red pill.

“Oh, thank God,” Jeff says. “I love you.” And he really does. 

Jeff takes the pill from Annie’s palm, knocking it back and chasing it down with cool water. It's a relief from the revolting taste in his mouth and his parched throat. “Thank you,” he says, voice hoarse.

Annie smiles at him weakly and leans her head against his shoulder. He has a quick flashback to the night before, pulling her into his lap on the couch. 

“I'm never drinking that much again,” Annie says.

“At least you’re young. It’s going to take me _weeks_ to recover from this.”

Annie smiles. “It’s a good thing your classes are canceled, then.” She fidgets with her hands. “Did we, um, do anything last night, Jeff?”

Jeff frowns. “You don't remember _anything_?” 

It’s fuzzy for him too, but there are some things he remembers sharply, like the way Annie whined into his mouth in the bathtub, kissing him like she never wanted to stop. 

Annie’s brow furrows. “The last thing I remember was fighting you for… a phone? And then you dropped it between the cushions.” She groans. “I can’t remember anything else.” 

Jeff feels sick again, his stomach clenching with a sudden onset of nausea. She doesn’t remember hitting her head or climbing into the bathtub or kissing him. She doesn’t remember pulling him close and resting their foreheads together and telling him he was wrong to resist the magnetic pull between them. 

Their kiss would be a memory for him and him alone. 

Annie searches his face. “Jeff?” She asks. “What happened?”

“We made out,” Jeff says flatly. He doesn’t know how to explain that it was more than that. It wasn’t just a drunk hook up, but if Annie doesn’t remember it, maybe she feels differently. His throat feels tight. He hates himself for kissing Annie back. How unbelievably stupid of him, to screw up something that important with someone who means so much. “You sat in the bathtub and you kissed me.” 

“Oh my God.” Annie covers her face with her hands. “I kissed you _sitting in a bathtub_?”

“Yeah,” Jeff says. “And I kissed back.” 

“And then what happened?” 

Jeff squints, but he can’t seem to recall anything else. He remembers she got sick, but he doesn’t quite know how he got from the bathroom back to her bed. “You puked after. I don’t remember the rest.”

Annie shakes her head and hugs her knees to her chest. “God, why did I have to get that drunk?” 

Jeff is silent. He wants to go home and have a shower. He needs to wash away the scent of her on his skin and this image of Annie, sitting on the floor in the bathroom, so utterly mortified that they had made out. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe Annie wasn’t ready for all of this. 

“I’m sorry,” Jeff says finally. “I shouldn’t have-”

“No, Jeff. It’s my fault. I--” She shakes her head. “Let’s just talk to Abed. I’ll make breakfast and we can figure out what happened last night.” 

“Actually,” Jeff says, staring intently at the bathroom floor. “I’m gonna head home. I need a shower.”

He doesn't want to watch Annie’s horrified expression as she pieces the night back together. He doesn't want to face the onslaught of questions from Britta and Abed about why he didn't take the extra bed or fall asleep on the couch.

Jeff doesn't know the answer himself.

Annie’s face falls. “Okay,” she says. “I’ll tell the others you said goodbye.”

Jeff nods. Dread is spreading through his body, poisoning his blood with bitterness. 

He gets to his feet, grabs his keys, and leaves.

* * *

Jeff takes a shower and a three hour nap as soon as he gets home. He wakes up with his stomach growling, but his headache has luckily subsided.

He checks his phone. It's despairingly silent. He's not sure what he's expecting to hear from Annie, but he wants to hear _something._ Something like, “Maybe if you kiss me again it'll jog my memory,” or something simply to say, “I'm sorry I don't remember last night but I wish I remembered kissing you.”

Evening starts to fall and still, radio silence. Jeff debates texting her. If he does, will he be ignored like all the years before? Does she need space? Has she changed her mind? He wants Scotch to give him the courage, but the idea of drinking makes his stomach churn uncomfortably. 

_Fuck it._ He thinks. _We’re friends. Friends text._

So Jeff types, “Hey,” and then erases it. Jeff types, “How’s it going?” then erases it again. God, why is he so lame? Finally he settles on, “How’s the amnesia?” because it's not formal and it gets to the heart of where he really wants to get to. How she feels about last night.

Jeff fiddles with the TV remote and flicks through his options, but his mind’s not really in it. He tells himself that Annie isn’t going to respond, because it’s easier to let himself down with a definitive no than hope with an open-ended maybe. 

By the time Annie’s response arrives, ten minutes later, he’s worked himself into a light sweat. Jeff bunches up the sleeves of his shirt and rubs his face. When Annie’s name flashes on his phone, his heart jolts. Jeff has to stop himself from clicking the text immediately. 

_Not great. I gave myself a black eye._

Jeff’s not above petty, so he waits eleven minutes before he responds back. 

**From last night?**

_Yup. I hit my face with the cabinet door._

_Shirley also texted to say she's praying for us._

**Why?**

_Abed put us on display during our video call with her and Troy. We were apparently “canoodling.” Shirley sent me a bible quote._

_“2 Timothy 2:22 - Flee from youthful passions, and pursue righteousness, faith, love, and peace, along with those who call on the Lord from a pure heart.”_

**That’s just her way of saying she misses you.**

_I prefer your way better :)_

Jeff frowns at his phone. What the hell does _that_ mean? He’s debating what to type back when his phone reads:

_Incoming Call: Annie_

“What’s up?” he asks.

“I’m outside,” Annie says, sounding breathless. “Mind buzzing me in?”

“What?” Jeff asks. “Why?” 

“I just want to talk,” Annie says. “Let me in.”

Jeff clicks the panel to let her into his apartment and hangs up the phone. He sprints to the bathroom mirror, where he wets his hands and runs them through his hair. Sleeping right after his shower was a terrible, awful idea. His hair had dried upwards in unmanageable spikes. A little sink water isn’t going to cut it, he looks _awful._

Jeff hears footsteps in the hall and makes it just in time to the door before it swings open. 

“I told Abed and Britta I needed to go grocery shopping,” Annie says, pushing her way in instead of saying hello. She’s changed into black leggings and a well-worn blue sweater, her hair falling flat against her shoulders.

“So you decided to raid my cabinets instead?” Jeff asks.

Annie laughs. “Depends. You got anything good?” She makes a beeline for his kitchen and starts going through the cabinets. 

“Careful, you don’t want to hit yourself again.” 

Annie rolls her eyes. “I'm not fragile, you know. It doesn't even hurt.” She faces him and puts her hands on her hips. “It looks way worse than it feels.” 

The light of the setting sun filters in from the living room windows, illuminating her face in gold. Jeff squints and notices a darkened purple ring that starts from Annie’s cheek and spreads around her eye. He didn’t see it that morning, in the darkness of the bathroom. 

“Jesus, Annie, your eye…” Jeff trails off.

Annie frowns. “I tried to cover it up with concealer, but obviously I didn’t do a very good job.”

It doesn’t look _terrible_ , but it looks like Annie got punched in the face. Jeff runs a hand through his hair. “Great, now everyone’s going to think I'm an abusive-” He stops himself before he says the word boyfriend. They haven't talked about it. He doesn't want to talk about it.

Annie raises an eyebrow, more amused than concerned. “An abusive what?”

Jeff clears his throat. He knows what's coming. Call her a friend and he's shut down every romantic possibility. Call her something more and it might not be what be what she wants. It's a trap. “I don't know. Is there a word for friends who drunkenly make out?”

Annie presses her lips together. “It depends. What did that drunken make out session mean to you?”

Jeff’s apartment suddenly feels very quiet. It’s funny that she’s asking him how _he_ feels about that kiss. Doesn’t she remember how many years Jeff’d been waiting to kiss her like that? It’s Annie that has to give him the okay. It’s Annie that has to tell him that she’s ready to be with him and that he isn’t holding her back. (Because she’s grown up and they’re both way more well-adjusted!) 

Jeff swallows. “I don’t know. What did it mean to _you_?”

“Seriously?” Annie asks. She crosses her arms over her chest. “I asked first.” 

“No, you didn’t,” Jeff says. “I asked you for a word to describe our relationship. That’s the same thing.”

“It is _not_ ,” Annie insists. “You asked me for a word to describe friends who drunkenly make out. And I didn’t have one. Because, technically, that’s you and Britta.”

“Not anymore,” Jeff reminds her. “And what does it matter? It’s not like you remember it anyway.”

Annie goes silent for a second. “Well, maybe drunk actions are sober thoughts.”

“So,” Jeff says. His mind is moving slowly as he tries to piece together Annie’s words. “You...want to kiss me sober.”

Annie’s chin lifts. “Maybe I do.” 

“Yeah?” Jeff asks. He’s a little embarrassed by how breathy he sounds. He clears his throat and manages a smirk. “I mean, who wouldn’t?”

“Can you just answer the question?” Annie asks. “I need to know.”

“You already know, Annie,” Jeff says.

“Oh, come on,” she says. “You can't even say it, can you?” 

Annie looks at him like she can see right through him. He feels naked, standing in front of her with all of his clothes on, trying to avoid saying how he feels. “I thought by now you would know what you wanted.”

“I do,” Jeff says quickly, too quickly. “I want to be with you, Annie. I just don’t know if you want the same.” He cringes as soon as the words leave his mouth. He feels like a fucking fourth grader. He might as well have given her a note with, ‘Do you like me? Check yes or no.’

Annie frowns. “I thought I made that obvious.”

“Obvious?” Jeff laughs and it sounds a bit hysterical. “Annie, all I know is if I kiss you, you'll kiss me back. You told me there was something here, but then you kissed me and you forgot all about it. And when you found out what you did, you were so mortified you couldn’t even look at me. So no. You didn’t make it obvious.”

“And you _did?”_ Annie demands. “Because it seems like I'm just an old flame you’ll fool around with. I'm not that cool, Jeff. I need commitment and explanations. I need reassurances that you're not going to flee from my apartment the second we wake up together.”

“It was an hour later, actually, but who's counting?”

The look Annie gives him is absolutely murderous. “I am not in the mood.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Jeff says. “Keep going. Tell me more about how I haven’t changed at all.”

Annie gathers her hands into tight fists, her face bright red. 

Jeff knows he’s saying all the wrong things. If he keeps down this path, she’s going to walk out that door and they’re never going to revisit this. Annie will find another job far away and it will close the door on any possibility between them. 

All the breath leaves his body at the thought. Jeff knows what it’s like to live a life without Annie and he can’t face it again. Not after all of this.

“Annie, I’m not that person anymore.” Jeff sighs. “I don't want to play games with you. I want you in my life again, for whatever you're willing to be. But you have to tell me. What do _you_ want?” She opens her mouth to speak but he butts in. “And you don’t have to answer right away. Think on it.” 

Annie presses her lips together and Jeff takes the moment to draw in a deep breath. He has to say everything now. He has to _try._ “I love you, Annie. I’ve loved you for years and as I unhelpfully concluded a year and a half ago, I’ll probably love you for the rest of my life. But I don’t want you to feel trapped by that. I don’t want you to be with me because you feel obligated or because I provide nostalgic comfort in an uncertain time.”

Annie swallows and breaks eye contact to look at the ground. “I thought you didn’t believe in love.”

It’s not the response Jeff is expecting, but hey, at least it’s not outright rejection. 

“I know I said I couldn’t get behind love and marriage and all that crap,” Jeff says (and he should’ve known saying that would bite him in the ass later on), “and I'm not sure how far this will go for us, but it’s something I've imagined and thought about and wanted… with you. I want all of it with you.” He clears his throat. “If you'll have me.”

“Jeff-” Annie starts. Her eyes are soft and just a little bit sad and he braces himself for the inevitable blow of rejection. “If you really thought about all of that, then why did you leave this morning?” 

Jeff presses his lips together. He doesn't want to say.

“Well?” Annie asks. 

“Because you couldn't remember the kiss!” Jeff blurts out. “And you looked like you regretted it.”

“Of course I regretted it,” Annie says, in a raw voice, staring intently at the floor. Jeff feels his heart stop, just for a second. “I didn't want our kiss to happen that way. I wanted to talk about it first and make a plan for what would happen next.”

“Not everything has to be planned, Annie.” Jeff says. “Sometimes, things just fall into place.”

“Not for us,” she says with a wet laugh. “They never did for us.”

Jeff knows what she’s talking about. The only thing that brought them together was a global pandemic. The only reason she’s standing in front of him now is because she lost her job, her boyfriend left her, and Jeff’s never been able to move on.

Fuck it all, though, because as long as Annie’s standing there, in his apartment, there’s still hope.

“It’s not too late.” Jeff takes a step forward. “I’ve spent so long pushing you away,” he says. “There was the age difference and the fear and we were in different life stages, but now-”

“Now there’s nothing stopping us.” Annie murmurs with a nod. 

“If you want us,” Jeff says. _Please,_ he thinks desperately, _tell me you want us._ Annie must see the anguish in his eyes because she twines her arms around his neck and pulls him towards her. 

“I want us.” Annie says. “Hey.” She waits until Jeff meets her eyes and says, “I love you, Jeff. I’ve loved you for way longer that I care to admit. It’s just easier to forget when you’re 1,750 miles away.” Jeff smiles, because it’s nice to know he wasn’t the only one who was calculating the distance between them. Annie bites her lip. “And I promise, if you kiss me now, I will neither regret nor forget it.”

“Yeah,” Jeff says, with a smirk. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Annie rolls her eyes. Jeff places his hands on her hips. Annie’s lips are parted, her gaze intense, and Jeff wonders if she can feel his fingers trembling against her sides.

He pulls her in closer and she meets him easily, hands moving up to frame Jeff’s jaw, and finally, their lips meet.

It’s soft, and tender, like the study room kiss, both of them shy, like they’re just testing the waters. Annie slides her hands into Jeff’s hair and Jeff lets his hands slide to the small of Annie’s back, gripping her tighter. And all the gentleness is gone. 

Annie opens her mouth and Jeff slips his tongue in, pressing his body closer to her. She tastes like mint and cherry chapstick and every kiss he's had from her before. The taste that sends hot, white heat rushing throughout his body. 

Annie tugs on his shirt, lifts it over his head, and then Jeff’s fingers are slipping under her sweater and she’s nodding at him to take it off. Jeff works his way down Annie’s throat, kissing her on her bare collar bone. She’s panting and making little whining noises that make him ache inside. 

Jeff lets his arms drop so he can hoist her off her feet, her arms scrabbling at his shoulders. Annie tightens her legs around his waist and he pivots to press her against the wall, so they’re flush against each other from shoulders to hips. Jeff shudders at the warm press of her curves, the way her body molds so perfectly against his own. 

Annie makes a soft noise in her throat and slides her fingers into Jeff’s hair to kiss him slow and deep. Her hands trail over his chest and shoulders and when she nips his lower lip between her teeth, he groans, pressing her tighter against him. 

“Jeff,” Annie gasps, when they finally break for air. “Bed. Please.” 

With a nod, Jeff lifts her higher on his hips and carries her into his room, where he drops her softly onto his bed.

“Fuck,” he whispers, almost to himself. Annie stares back at him, hair fanning out on his sheets, eyes dark. “I’ve waited so long to see you like this.” He traces his fingers along the edge of her bra and finds the front clasp, pinching it together and letting it go slack. Jeff slides the straps down her arms and Annie shimmies out of it, pulling it away from her body and letting it fall to the floor. 

Jeff nips his way along her jaw and down her neck, pressing kisses all the way down to her breast, until she’s pawing at his waistband, trying to pop the button on his pants. 

Jeff tries to calm his racing heart, but it’s a lost cause because Annie's reaching down to palm him through his underwear. She’s relentless, hands exploring, smoothing over his heated skin. 

Jeff swallows hard. “Annie, Annie...Hold on.” 

Annie drops her hands from Jeff’s body, snapping out of the desperation that seems to be consuming her. “Sorry,” she says quietly. 

“Don’t be,” Jeff says, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I just need a minute to take your pants off.”

Annie laughs and lets him tug at the waistband of her leggings. It gets wrapped up in her ankles so she has to push Jeff to the side, the two of them laughing as she untangles herself. Annie slips her purple panties to the floor while Jeff kicks off the rest of his clothes. 

Jeff’s mouth goes dry as he takes a moment to appreciate the body of the woman beside him. He can’t remember ever wanting someone so badly. He’s spent years trying to map out her body in his mind, imagining how her breasts looked under her tight little cardigans or fixating on the little flash of leg he’d get when her skirt swished just the right way. But no fantasy compares to the real Annie, his Annie, stretched out gorgeously in front of him with unbelievable certainty in her eyes.

Jeff’s hands are trembling as he reaches for her, and he tells his body to shut up, because now that he has her, he’s never going to let her go. 

They kiss and kiss until Annie is making noises obscene and ragged, deep in her throat. Jeff traces his fingers over her hips, moving lower to graze the wetness between her legs. Annie jerks in his grasp and gasps. 

“Oh, God...Jeff, that’s…” she trails off as she arches her hips against his hand. Jeff trains his eyes on her face, focused on the way she bites her lip and her cheeks flush. She’s so hot and slick against his fingers and Jeff can hardly take it, how turned on he is, just from getting Annie off. 

Annie must sense his restlessness, because she stretches between them to wrap her fingers around Jeff’s length. It’s an awkward angle and a little rough, but the feeling of her fingers sliding up and down makes Jeff’s stomach drop.

“Annie, I-” Jeff starts.

“Condom,” Annie chokes out. Jeff curls his fingers up inside of her and thrusts in one more time, studying the way her eyelashes flutter. Annie grabs at his wrist to still the movement. “Jeff,” she says, pinning him with a sultry gaze. “Please.”

Jeff hesitates, blinking, left hand clenching and unclenching in the sheets. “Are you sure?”

“Yes."

Jeff feels his restraint breaking and he releases her. “Do you _understand,”_ he almost growls, “what you do to me?” 

Annie grins and puts a hand on his shoulder to roll out from underneath him. Her gaze trails down his flushed body. “I think I have some idea. Top drawer?” 

Jeff hesitates. He can’t even think of the last time he used a condom. Fuck, that’s humiliating. “I think so.”

Annie stands up and flicks on the light, rummaging through Jeff’s bedside table drawer. “Ew, Jeff, this drawer is disgusting. Is that a melted _Starburst?”_

Jeff shrugs. “Probably. Don’t get distracted. I’m impatient.”

Annie rolls her eyes and finds the purple wrapper she’s looking for.

“Check the expiration date,” Jeff murmurs. “I'm not sure how old it is.”

“March 31st, 2021,” Annie reads. She smiles softly and Jeff feels a flush creeping across his cheeks. He knows what she's thinking. That it’s been awhile for him. “It’s good.” 

Annie climbs back on Jeff’s bed and pushes him back against the sheets. 

She wastes no time, tearing the condom wrapper open and rolling it over him. Before Jeff can blink, Annie’s leaning over him, lining them up together and sinking down so fast and deep that he has to dig his fingers into the sheets to keep himself from losing it.

Jeff’s stomach flips over at the way Annie feels, satin over steel and so hot he _burns._

“Shit,” he groans. “A little warning next time, hm?”

Annie laughs and leans forward to press a kiss to his jaw. “I thought you couldn’t wait,” she murmurs. She starts moving slowly, rotating her hips to tease him. Jeff tightens his grip on Annie’s hips, stomach clenching at the visual of her on top of him, breasts bouncing in the best possible way.

“I can’t,” Jeff pants. He reaches between her legs and finds where she's sensitive, presses a thumb against her in the way he thinks she likes. Annie jerks to life, rising up and sinking back down again. 

Jeff can barely breathe as she moves faster, but he manages a small smirk. “Who’s the impatient one now?”

Annie shakes her head, eyes closed. Every muscle in Jeff’s body feels like jelly and it’s taking all of his energy to stop himself from collapsing against the sheets. He keeps his thumb moving faster against her, because he really doesn’t think he can last much longer. 

Annie tenses around him, fingernails digging into his shoulders. She sinks down over him again, once, twice, three times. She throws back her head as she comes and lets out a deep, throaty moan. Annie rotates her hips, clenching around him even tighter, and that’s it-- game over. 

Jeff comes choking out Annie’s name like she’s the best thing to have ever happened to him.

She just might be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, this chapter stumped me hard, I wanted to get the love confession exactly right. I feel like Jeff wouldn't be overly mushy so I tried my best to keep it simple.
> 
> I'm thinking there's one more chapter left! Thanks for your beautiful comments they give me such joy to read.


	6. Chapter 6

When Annie and Jeff finally climb out of bed, the sun has completely set. Annie panics when she checks her phone, because she has five missed calls from Britta and Abed and it’s already 8 o’clock. She frowns and types out a quick text to her roommates, telling them she’s on her way home.

Jeff walks Annie to his door and knows that the fact he wants nothing more than for her to stay the night is written all over his face. Annie ignores his pleading, of course, but she does let him kiss her against his apartment door as a goodbye. Jeff’s knees go soft because of the way Annie’s pressing into him, the way her arms come up and wrap around his neck, the way she seems to kiss him with her whole body, all uncertainty completely gone. 

He groans when Annie pulls away, her skin flushed and breathing slightly uneven. 

“Jeff, I have to go,” she says.

“No, you don’t,” Jeff says. “Stay here tonight. Or, I can come over there.”

Annie laughs. “Not today. I still have to explain to Britta and Abed why I left so long.” She bites her lip. 

“Okay,” Jeff says slowly. “I hear you. Before you go, though, I think you should come back to my room. There’s something I forgot to show you.”

“Oh my _God,”_ Annie says, rolling her eyes. “No. If we go back there, you’re not going to let me leave.”

Jeff grins. “You’re wrong.”

Annie scoffs. “It doesn’t take a genius to decipher what you’re going to show me. And as much as I enjoyed it earlier, I have responsibilities I need to attend to.”

Jeff sighs, forcing himself to respect her wishes and stop thinking about how nice it would be for her to spend the night and wake up beside him, blue eyes fluttering, warm, naked skin pressed against his own. Jeez. 

Jeff traces her cheek with a finger. “So tomorrow?” 

Annie places her hand over his, eyes twinkling. “Maybe.”

"Playing hard to get, are we?"

Annie laughs. "I thought you liked women who play hard to get."

"Mm, mostly just like you. Whatever you do."

Annie blushes and shakes her head.

“Am I coming on too strong?” Jeff asks.

“A little.”

“You don’t care though,” Jeff says. It’s not a question.

“No, I don’t.”

Jeff pulls Annie back in for a kiss, slotting their mouths together, letting the kiss grow hot between them, until she pulls away abruptly. Her eyes go wide and she grips his shoulders.

“Jeff,” she says slowly. “All the grocery stores are closed.”

“And?” Jeff asks. 

“How am I going to explain that I was gone for _three hours_ without any groceries?”

Jeff bursts out laughing, stepping back, letting his hands fall to his sides. “Easy. We’ll raid my cabinets.”

In the end, Annie leaves with one of his reusable bags filled with a carton of eggs, two old cans of beans, and a head of broccoli. 

It’s not ideal for a three hour grocery run, but it’s enough. 

* * *

It’s only twenty minutes later when Jeff gets a call from Annie. He lets it ring once before he picks up, rolling his eyes.

“Miss me already?” 

“No, Jeff,” Annie says. Her voice sounds tinny and far away. “I got home and Britta and Abed started interrogating me about my shopping trip. They wanted to know why I got beans when I’m allergic to beans and I panicked and I said-” 

Jeff sits up straighter in bed. “Annie, Annie. Slow down. What’s going on?”

“I told them I went to your place instead.”

“And?”

“They know,” Annie says. She hesitates.“And I hope that's okay because we didn't talk about telling other people.”

“I see,” Jeff says. 

They’re both quiet for a moment. Jeff stays unmoving, sprawled out on top of his comforter, staring at the ceiling. 

So. Britta and Abed know. That's surprising. What's even more surprising to him, though, is that he's okay with it. 

“Jeff? Is that okay?"

“Yeah, Annie, it's fine.” He swallows. “That's great, actually, now I don’t have to be the first one to break the news.” 

“I’m rolling my eyes.”

Jeff chooses to ignore her. “How did they take it?”

“Britta said ‘It took you long enough’ and Abed said he called it,” Annie says. “So, fine. I think.”

There’s a loud banging noise in the background. 

“What is that?”

“Um,” Annie says. “Nothing.” 

Jeff hears some shuffling and then Britta yelling, “Annie! I know you're in there! You're going to have to give me the details at one point or another!”

“Are you hiding in the bathroom?” Jeff asks incredulously. 

“Maybe,” Annie says. 

“Annie!” Britta shouts.

“Oh God, what have I done?” 

Jeff laughs. “You better go take care of that. Make sure you give Britta all the details. Especially the part about how loud I made you-”

Annie clears her throat. “No thank you. Britta and I’s friendship line stops at discussing our sex lives.” She draws in a breath. “And Jeff?”

“Yeah?”

“If the offer still stands, I'd love to sleep at your place tomorrow.”

“Great, I'll break out the air mattress.”

Annie laughs.

* * *

“So…” Britta says, six days later.

Annie’s in the kitchen making popcorn for the showing of Contagion (at Abed’s insistence), so Jeff is left in the living room with Britta and Abed. 

He’s been able to avoid being alone with them for the past week, using every excuse to be glued to Annie’s side. It was only a matter of time before his excuses ran out.

“So,” Britta tries again, when Jeff doesn’t answer. “You and Annie.”

Jeff shrugs. “What about it?”

“How did that happen?” 

Jeff rolls his eyes. “Don’t act like you don’t already know.” 

Abed puts down the remote and looks up from the TV with interest. “I don’t know.”

Jeff waves his hand. “It doesn’t matter. The point is we’re together now. End of story.”

“It’s not the end of a story.” Abed says, “It’s a beginning. A spin-off. What are you calling it? Pillow Talk? Annie and Jeff: In Quarantine? A Happily Ever After?” Abed asks.

Jeff swallows. It’s a lot to take in, this new thing that’s formed between him and Annie. They’re dating, that much is obvious, but nobody ever told him how weird it would be to be able to freely kiss someone he’s wanted for _so long._ And to have _Abed_ asking questions about their future?

Some days, Jeff has to keep himself from laughing over the insanity of his new life. Like when he wakes up in the morning and sees Annie snuggled in his arms. Or when he goes out grocery shopping and has to wait in socially distanced lines, wearing a mask with roses on it. He has to remind himself that this is his reality now. 

“There’s no spin-off, Abed. We’re just taking it as it goes.”

Jeff hears an angry huff from the kitchen and turns to see Annie wrestling with a steaming hot popcorn bag, spilling some all over the counter. He watches as she dumps the bag in a bowl and sweeps up the remaining kernels from the counter, her shoulders tense.

Britta’s saying something to him in the background, but he can’t make out the words. He'd rather watch Annie.

That’s pretty much all he wants to do these days: watch Annie, listen to Annie, kiss Annie, get Annie off.

“Jeff!” Britta says and he snaps to attention. 

“What?”

“I asked you what time you're coming to pick up Troy,” Britta says, scowling. “But you were too busy making googly eyes.”

Jeff shrugs. “I brought clothes to change, I’ll sleep over.”

“Oh, my bad, I didn't realize this was a hotel.”

“Good try,” Jeff says. “But it’s not nice enough to be a hotel.”

“What would you call it, then?”

“A hostel.”

“This is not a hostel. Do you see bugs crawling anywhere? Do you see drunk Australian teens beating the crap out of each other?” Britta asks.

Jeff assumes she's speaking from experience, but he really doesn’t want to know. “Britta, you're housing young travelers in a small apartment, that's basically the definition of a hostel.”

Britta rolls her eyes. “I don't see _you_ taking anyone in.”

“I'm still traumatized from housing Chang.” 

“You can have the top bunk, if you want,” Abed blurts out. “Troy won't be here until tomorrow, so it's open.”

“I'm good,” Jeff says awkwardly. “I'll sleep in Annie’s room.”

“How does that work?” Abed asks. “The bed is small.”

“It worked perfectly fine the last time we tried.” Jeff smirks.

Britta makes a gagging noise as Annie comes back into the room.

“What’re you guys talking about?” Annie asks.

“Nothing,” Jeff says at the same time Abed says, “We were wondering how you and Jeff can fit in the same bed.”

Jeff glares at him. 

“Abed, if you and Troy can fit in the same bottom bunk of your bed no problem, then I think Jeff and I can fit in the same regular sized bed.”

Abed thankfully shuts up after that. Annie shoots Jeff a satisfied smile, before settling beside him on the couch. 

As Gwyneth Paltrow appears on the screen, Jeff lets his mind wander to everything that had happened in the past week. He and Annie had only been together for six days and still, sitting next to her, Jeff is on the edge of his seat with how badly he wants to reach out and pull Annie into his arms. And Annie seems to be on the same page, because she lifts his arm halfway through the movie to tuck herself into his side, snuggling closer. 

Six days is an easy enough time to settle into a blissful routine. They wake up and lie in bed until 12. They make lunch together and linger in the kitchen, Jeff holding Annie by the hips pressing her against the edge of his counter, their lips slotting together, tongues sliding, messy and hot. They go to the bedroom at two and chat lazily in bed until three. Then Annie pulls on her shirt and shoes and pants and leaves for her apartment. She comes back a few hours later at nine and they watch Arrested Development until they’re not really watching anymore. More sex, more sleep then they get up and the day starts over again. 

It’s heaven, but how long until it all gets tired? 

By the time the movie’s finished and they’re in bed, Jeff’s thinking about how he might eventually do something to fuck it all up, how he’ll say something stupid and Annie’s going to realize that this isn’t what she wants anymore. But Annie starts tugging on the hem of his shirt, reminding him that she wants him just as badly as he wants her. As soon as her bare skin brushes his, all the doubts evaporate.

Annie rolls on top of him and kisses up his jaw, murmuring, “I don’t know how I thought I could ever live without this.” 

“I couldn’t,” Jeff says, sliding his hands up and down Annie’s bare sides, staring. “And now that I know what it’s like, I can’t ever go back.” 

Annie bites her lip. “Don’t know why I didn’t come back sooner.” She swallows. “Want me to suck you off?” 

The words sound too comfortable coming from her lips. Jeff can’t help but wonder what kind of things had happened, all those years ago, for her to go from penis-avoiding Annie to the Annie who could comfortably voiceover a D&D sex scene. Or ask Jeff if he wanted to be sucked off.

But that’s for another time. There are more pressing matters at hand. 

“God, yes,” Jeff groans, squeezing his eyes shut. “You’re so hot.”

Annie slides to the end of the bed, licking her lips, her breath hot against Jeff’s thighs. She grins. “Eloquent.” 

“You’re not allowed to tease me right now.”

Annie raises an eyebrow. “I can tease you whenever I want.”

He’s about to say something else, something about how she already is, but then Annie’s mouth is on him and he can’t get his tongue to work right. 

When they’re finished, it’s too late to have any sort of real conversation, but Annie starts talking and Jeff’s content to listen to her, tracing his thumb over her shoulder. 

“I’ll start looking for jobs around here,” Annie says, “there’s not much open right now, but when it gets better, Greendale is where I want to be.” 

“What kind of jobs are you looking for?” Jeff asks. 

“I got my BS in Chemistry,” Annie says. “So we’ll see what I can do with that.”

Jeff grins and brushes his lips against her neck. “I can think of a few things.”

Annie squirms in his grasp. “Jeff, I'm being serious.”

“I know. I think it's a great idea. I love it.” 

“You love _me.”_

Jeff nods, because that’s the understatement of the year. 

“Yeah, Annie. I do.”

* * *

Jeff wakes up the next morning with Annie breathing up against his chest, her body warm and soft, hair tickling his collarbone. He forces his eyes open and finds her blinking two inches from his face, staring at him intensely. 

“Hi,” Jeff says. “Can I help you?”

Annie grins. “It’s about time. I’ve been awake for fifteen minutes already.”

“Oh boy, a whole fifteen minutes. Careful, if you wait any longer you might spontaneously burst into flames.” 

Annie rolls her eyes. “It’s too early for sarcasm, Jeff. We have to get up, we’re picking up Troy in an hour.”

Jeff groans. “Can’t he just Uber here? Or Britta just pick him up?”

Annie scoots out from under his arm to roll off the bed and stand up. Jeff immediately misses the warmth. “I hope you’re kidding. It’s been like seven years since we’ve seen him last.”

“How does someone take _seven years_ to travel the world?” Jeff asks. “Doesn’t that get tiring after awhile?”

“Maybe,” Annie muses. “But he _was_ taken hostage by pirates and LeVar got that rare skin disease where he had to be airlifted to the Canary Islands, remember?” 

Jeff nods. “I remember.” Annie’s already up and changing, pulling on jeans and a pink sweater. He puts an arm over his eyes. “I don’t want to get up.” 

“Come on,” Annie says. “You’re driving us to the airport. And I'm making eggs.”

Jeff lifts his head. “Coffee too?”

“Yeah, of course.” Annie says. 

“Okay, I like it bl-”

“I know. I’m already on it.” She puts a hand on the doorknob. “Hurry up.”

Jeff smiles as she leaves the room. 

It’s going to be a good morning. 

* * *

When they meet Troy at the airport, Troy can’t stop crying. He clings to Abed in the backseat as Jeff drives them home. 

Abed, despite his reservations with hugging Jeff, is perfectly happy to let his best friend wrap his arms around him, Troy breathing him in like it’s the last time they’ll ever see each other. 

“I’ve missed you guys so much.” 

* * *

The apartment becomes a little too crowded for the five of them. They’re constantly running out of bowls and forks, which means Annie’s constantly washing the dishes, which means that they order food in way more than they should. 

Jeff nearly kills himself tripping over Troy’s massive suitcases that take up half the living room space, Annie and Abed start bickering about buttered noodles again, and Britta is constantly on his case about trying to teach his virtual classes in their living room. (“You know that having a mic amplifies your voice, right? You don’t need to _shout_ at them.”)

On Monday, Jeff wakes up to a pounding on the door, thundering and persistent. He searches blindly for his phone on the bedside table and accidentally knocks it to the floor.

Jeff swears under his breath, extracting himself from underneath Annie to check the time. 

8:30 AM. 

Okay, so it’s not insanely early. But Mondays are the one day a week he can sleep in. Not to mention, he, Britta, Abed, Annie, and Troy have spent the last three nights playing Catan until 2:30 in the morning, so he’s allowed to feel a little upset at having to wake up before 10. 

Jeff stands, slams his phone back on the bedside table and marches towards the front door of Annie’s apartment. 

The pounding is only gets louder. Jeff looks around the room. Is he crazy? Is he the only one who can hear the knocking? Britta’s door is closed, Abed’s laying in bed reading a comic, and Troy’s in the shower. 

“Aren’t you going to get that?” Jeff asks Abed. 

Abed sits up, as if he’s just hearing the noise. “Who is it?”

Jeff sighs. “Well, Abed, the only way to find out is by answering the door.” 

Abed rolls out of bed and follows Jeff to the entrance. Jeff peers through the peephole and sees a man standing there with a black ski mask over his face. “I take it back. Who the hell is that?”

Abed nudges Jeff aside and takes a closer look. “Oh. That’s Rick. Our landlord.”

“How can you tell?”

“His eyes. Small, beady, vacant. Well meaning, but with something ominous that you can’t quite put your finger on.”

Rick continues to bang on the door as Britta stumbles out of her room, hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun. “God, will you just answer it already?”

Jeff sighs and places his hand on the doorknob.

“Wait!” Britta says. She rushes to the table to hand them their masks to put on. “Now, go ahead.”

“Has anyone told you that your mask makes you look like a mass murderer?” Jeff asks instead of hello. 

“Who the hell are you?” Rick asks. “I’m looking for Britta.” He pushes forward to barge into the apartment and Jeff takes a step back, not wanting to come too close. 

“I’m right here,” Britta says. “What do you want, Rick? I paid my rent.”

Troy comes out of the shower from down the hall, towel slung around his waist, humming to himself. He freezes when he sees Rick in his ski mask. 

“No,” Troy exclaims. “They’ve found me.” He takes a deep breath. “Hold on, guys, I got this. Avast! We be swashbucklers! Wenches be prohibited.” Troy frowns. “No, that’s not right. Wenches are women…”

“Troy,” Britta says gently. “It’s Rick, our landlord, remember?”

“Are we sure he’s not a pirate?” Troy asks.

“Blow me down!” Rick says. “Belay your carousing, me hearty! A fine booty ye lassie be.”

All the color drains from Troy’s face. “He _is_ a pirate!”

“Cool,” Abed says. “Cool, cool, cool.”

“I’m no pirate,” Rick says. “Just seen a few,” he clears his throat, “videos. Rated PG, of course. Perfectly acceptable pirate videos. Cartoons.” 

Annie pads into the room then, yawning. “What’s going on?”

“Ah! I knew it!” Rick says, pointing at Britta. “You’re housing strays!”

“Strays?” Annie demands, putting her hands on her hips. “You don't remember me, Rick? You stole my summertime ballet flats!”

Jeff freezes. “He _what_?” 

“In my defense, Abed broke into my apartment with a Batman costume on.” Rick says.

“He _what?”_ Britta asks. 

“That was _after_ you stole my shoes,” Annie says. “Months after.”

“Can someone explain what the hell is going on?” Jeff asks. “He steals shoes?”

Annie looks at Troy and shakes her head. Troy looks to Abed, his eyes wide, unblinking. Abed looks at… Troy’s chest? 

Jeff is pretty sure Abed has no idea what's going on. He doesn't blame him, though, if Annie came out of the shower in just a towel he wouldn't be paying attention either.

“I remember all of you,” Rick says. “All of you, except the guy with the oversized forehead.”

Jeff pouts. “It's not that big!”

“Whatever. The point is, the septic tank overflowed from all the water you guys are using and now my basement apartment smells like shit.” Rick frowns. “As in, there is actual shit in my apartment. So you're going to have to stop flushing the toilet. And taking two hour showers.” 

They all look at Troy accusingly. 

“Do you know what it's like,” Troy says, tightening the grip on his towel, “to not have a proper shower for seven years?” 

Rick sighs. “I hate to do this, especially in these times, I hate to say it, but I can't have five people living in the same apartment. Two of you need to leave.”

Jeff puts his hands up. “I don’t live here.”

“So that’s one,” Rick says, “who’s next?”

“I vote Annie!” Britta blurts out.

Annie gasps. “What? I don't have a job. I can't afford to find another apartment.”

“Oh, so what? You were just going to mooch off of me?”

“You were perfectly fine with mooching five years ago.”

“I paid my rent,” Britta insists. 

“Yeah, a month later,” Annie says. “I have savings. I vote Abed leaves. He can live with his dad.” 

“You can’t send Abed away,” Troy says. “I just got here. I vote Britta. She threw out my postcards.” 

Britta glares at him. “I was following the KonMari method. Seeing them reminded me you were gone and didn’t ‘spark joy’ in my life. Besides, I invited all of you here. You can’t make me move.”

“Annie should move in with Jeff.” Abed says. “She’s there most of the time, anyway.”

Jeff raises an eyebrow, because Abed’s right. She is. He has more than enough room for two people at his apartment. That, and his bed is way bigger than the one they’d been sharing in her room.

Annie could move in with him without a problem, but Jeff’s just not sure if they’re at that stage in their relationship yet. It’s only been two weeks, after all. 

Jeff opens his mouth to suggest that she could, but Annie interrupts him. “I’m not always there,” she snaps. “I have my own space and I like it that way.”

“What?” Jeff asks. “You do?” 

Annie gives him a look that he can’t quite decipher. 

“You know what?” he says. “Me too. I hate people in my personal space.”

“What?” Annie asks. “You do?”

Jeff raises his eyebrows at her.

Annie crosses her arms. “I mean. Yeah. Me too.”

“Okay,” Jeff says slowly. “So who’s going to move?”

“If you guys make me or Abed move out, I’ll hate you forever,” Troy says.

“Nobody’s making anyone do anything,” Annie says. “We’ll settle this the right way.” She turns on a heel and marches straight to the kitchen where she grabs a huge pot from the cabinet and starts to fill it with ice from the freezer. “We’re going to determine who’s the best roommate. In an ice bath challenge.” 

“Annie,” Jeff says, frowning. “I don’t think this is necessary.”

“Tolerance is an important quality in a roommate,” Annie says. “This challenge will test our mental capacity to endure pain and irritation. Jeff. You’ll handle the timer.”

Rick clears his throat. “I’m going to head out before I become liable for anything. I’ll come back on Wednesday. I hope you’ve figured it out by then.”

“Guys, I really don’t think-” Jeff starts.

“No, Annie’s right.” Troy says. “This is the only fair way to decide who leaves the apartment.”

“I was thinking Rock, Paper, Scissors,” Abed says. “But I like this idea better. It's more climatic.”

“I'm in,” Britta says. “I can handle the cold. I was _born_ cold.”

“Really?” Troy asks. 

“Yeah. I was so cold, they put me in an incubator for _two months_ ,” Britta says.

“Oddly enough, that explains a lot.” Jeff says. 

Britta sticks her tongue out at him. 

Annie lugs four small storage bins from her room and sets them on the table. She pours an equal amount of ice into each one of them. Then, she goes back into the kitchen to fill up the pot with enough water to distribute into each of the ice containers. 

“To do the ice bath challenge, you put your hand into an ice bath for as long as you can tolerate the pain,” Annie explains. “Jeff will time us up to five minutes. Since, after five minutes, frostbite can occur.”

“Take this seriously,” Abed adds. “If your skin turns pale yellow, itches, burns, stings, take your hand out. We don’t want blisters or permanent nerve damage. No cheating. No tickling. No moving the bucket. No pulling someone else’s hand out of water. Your hand must be fully submerged to the wrist.”

“Can I change first?” Troy asks.

“No,” Annie says. “We’re doing this now.”

“But wearing less clothes will make me colder,” Troy whines. 

“Fine. Just hurry up.”

Troy changes in Britta’s room while Annie retrieves a thermometer from the bathroom and measures the temperature of the water. “Perfect,” she says. “39 degrees. Let’s do this.”

When Troy comes back, the four of them line up at the table, their hands hovering above the buckets. 

Jeff pulls out his phone and sets up the timer. “Ready?” He asks. “Set? Go!”

The four of them plunge their hands into the water.

One minute in and there’s no immediate reaction. They look a bit uncomfortable (with the exception of Abed), but there’s no indication that any of them are going to give up soon. 

After just two minutes, Troy’s rocking side to side, his right eye starting to twitch a little. Britta hunches over the bin with her eyes squeezed shut, left hand in the water, right hand gripping the edge of the plastic. Abed stands stoically, staring back at Jeff like his mind’s in another world. 

Jeff turns his attention to Annie. She’s chewing on her bottom lip, breathing in loudly through her nose. He can only imagine how numb her fingers are by now. 

Three minutes go by. Troy’s whimpering, continuing to rock back and forth. Britta’s cursing under her breath. Abed’s still staring at nothing. Annie has her eyes shut tightly, her breathing uneven. Jeff glances at her hands in the bucket. Is he paranoid or is Annie’s hand looking a little _too_ pale?

“Annie, take your hand out. You're going to get frostbite.”

“No.” Annie says, her gaze fixed on her hand in the ice. “I'm not going to be the first one out.”

“What's the big deal?” Jeff asks. “You can stay at my apartment until you find somewhere. In fact, I think there’s someone in my building who’s moving out.”

Annie frowns, meeting his eyes. “This apartment is the only thing I have left, Jeff. I can’t leave.”

“That’s not true. You have me. You have all of us. You don’t need this apartment.” 

“I can’t afford to live alone,” Annie says. She swallows. “I don’t want to live alone.”

Jeff nods at that, because he knows - that in the past few months, weeks, really, if he’s thinking about it - that Annie’s world has been turned upside down. Jeff’s all too familiar with the feeling. One minute you’re on top of the world as a successful lawyer, and the next you’re attending community college. Okay, so maybe that’s not her situation exactly, but he knows what she’s feeling. She’s an overthinker, like he is (when it comes to himself), and too much time alone will make her a self-doubter. So. There’s really only one solution. 

“Move in with me,” Jeff says. 

Annie stills. “What?” 

“Move in with me. If you want.” 

“Do you think we’re ready for that?” 

“Can you guys hurry up?” Troy asks. “Because if you’re deciding now that Annie’s moving out, I just stuck my hand in an ice bin for four whole minutes _for no reason.”_

They both ignore him. “Jeff, when I moved in with Oliver, it only lasted three weeks. He got tired of my incessant need to keep things clean. My obsession with planning, my goal setting.” Annie sucks in her cheeks. “I don’t want you to get tired of those things too.”

“Annie,” Jeff says, taking a step forward. “I’ve known you for like 11 years. You don’t think I know about all those things by now?”

Annie’s face softens. 

“Sure, there are times that you’re driven and obsessive, to the point that we all question your sanity, but we love that about you.” He swallows. “I love that about you.”

“Ugh, my God,” Britta groans. “Fuck. Just say you’ll move in with him so I can take my hand out of this stupid bin!”

Annie takes her hand out of the bucket. “Okay,” she says. “I’ll move in with you.”

“God, finally!” Britta says, massaging her frozen hand. “I need my mittens.” She leaves for her bedroom.

“You two. Are unbelievable,” Troy says, through gritted teeth. He crosses the room and climbs up the bunk bed, shoving his frozen hand under his pillow. 

Abed stares at them and shakes his head, before following Troy to the bunk bed. 

Jeff grins at Annie, who leans in close to meet him in a kiss. He deepens it, cupping her face in his hands. Annie flattens her hands on his stomach, lifting his shirt to slide her hand underneath. Jeff startles and pulls back immediately.

“You’re freezing!” Jeff says. “Don’t touch me with that hand.”

Annie grins. “Try and stop me.”

Jeff runs for his life.

* * *

Week four - and Jeff’s going to stop counting now- since Annie came home, they’ve moved all of her stuff into Jeff’s apartment. Jeff thought it would be weird having Annie around constantly after being apart for so long. And in some instances, it is, but overall, it’s a huge improvement from the way things were before. Annie no longer has to borrow Britta’s car to visit. Jeff no longer has to carry over duffle bags to spend the night and wear wrinkled clothes. If Jeff wants to see Annie, it’s not a ten minute drive away. He only has to cross the room.

They settle into a new routine. A different one. Jeff wakes up early to teach his classes and Annie makes them breakfast. They drink coffee in between his 9 AM and his 12, and Annie spends the rest of the day applying for jobs and trying to teach herself Hebrew. Jeff finishes grading papers around four o’clock and he puts his laptop away in the other room. They order Chinese food or pizza or Thai, (or sometimes they make salad) and they dig in and watch The Office until the sun goes down. 

They’re watching Michael Scott in the Sexual Harassment episode, and Annie puts her bowl of salad down, scooting closer to Jeff. She crosses her legs and drapes them over his lap. Jeff reaches down to trace the skin of her ankle.

Annie looks up at him. “It’s really weird that we’re here.”

Jeff squeezes her leg. “I know. It’s been a long time coming.”

“We _live_ together.” 

“And you just realized?”

Annie’s lips curve into a smile on his collar bone. “No. It’s just. It’s nice to spend so much time with someone. To have someone to wake up next to every day.”

“Yeah,” Jeff says, swallowing. “I’ve never had that before.”

Annie nods. “I have.”

“And? How do I compare?” 

“How do you compare to my self-absorbed, lame ex-boyfriend?” She purses her lips. “Eh. I’d say you’re about the same.”

“Really.”

“Mhm.”

Jeff smirks. “That’s not what you were saying last night.”

“You can’t use that line for everything, Jeff. It’s getting tired,” Annie says. “Besides. I was kidding. What I felt before, for Oliver, was stupid. That wasn’t real love. We were both using each other to fulfill the ideal lives we had in our minds.” She nudges him with a toe. “And now that I know what real love is like, everything else just seems silly.”

“Yeah,” Jeff says, tucking a loose strand of hair behind Annie’s ear. “We’re lucky.” He glances up at the TV, where Jim is talking to a blonde blow up doll. “Okay, yeah, we can turn this off now.”

Annie laughs and leans over him to reach for the remote. “Thank you for sharing your place with me.”

“It’s not mine anymore,” he says. “It’s ours.” 

Jeff sits up to kiss Annie properly, and it’s too heated considering they’re in the middle of a serious conversation, but Annie leans into it anyway. 

“Come on,” Annie mumbles against his lips, “Let’s go to bed.”

Later, when Jeff lays in bed staring at the ceiling, Annie curled up in his arms, he thinks that Abed’s right about their spin-off.

It’s only the beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand it's done! I hope you enjoyed. Let me know what you think in the comments. :)


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